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THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 


THE 

ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 


BY 
CADMUS  AND  HARMONIA 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

The  Riverside  Press  Cambridge 
1920 


COPYRIGHT,  1920,  BY  HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESBRVBD 


THE  PEOPLE  IN  THE  BOOK 

Colonel    Arthur   Lamont 
and  his  wife    ....     The  host  and  hostess 

Phyllis Their  niece 

The  Kev.  John  Macmillan     Minister  of  the  Parish 


The  Lady  Guidwillie  of 
Waucht A  Highland  landovmer 

Mr.  James  Burford    .     .     A  Labour  ex-Member  of 

Parliament 

The  Lady  Sevenoaks  .     .     Wife  of  a  former  Liberal 

Minister 

Mr,  Albert  Wyper     .     .     A  progressive  journalist 

The  Lady  Penelope 
Wyper His  wife 

Mrs.  Martha  Lavender  .     An  American  resident  in 

England 

Mrs.  Ursula  Aspenden    .     A  lady  given  to  good  works 

Mr,    Christopher    Nor- 
MAND A  Conservative 

Sir  William  Jacob       .     .     A  Liberal  lawyer 


vi      \TEE  PEOPLE  IN  THE  BOOK 


Mr.    George    Stanbury- 
Maldwin       .     .     .     , 


Late    of    the     Grenadier 
Guards 


Mr.  Penrose  MacAndrew     Lieutenant  in  the  Third 

United  States  Army 


Mr.  D.  C.  Jonas     .     , 
Mr.  Philip  Lenchard 


A  Labour  Leader 
An  Imperialist 


General    Ferdinand    Mo-  Lately    commanding    an 

RiER Army  of  France^ 

Mr.    Archibald    Strath-  A   Coalition  Member   cf 

BXJNGO Parliament 

Mr.  Merryweather  Ma- 

lone An  American  politician 


The  Lord  Linkumdoddib     A  Captain  of  industry 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 


Prologue,  in  which  two  retired  gentlefolk  are  distressed 
about  the  future  of  their  country.  To  them  enter  the  Lady 
Guidwillie  and  Mr.  Burford. 

In  a  pleasant  arbour  looking  down  on  spring 
meadows  which  sloped  towards  the  western 
sea,  a  gentleman  was  reading  aloud  from 
Matthew  Arnold.  "  The  sunshine  in  the  happy 
glens  is  fair,"  he  read. 

"And  by  the  sea,  and  in  the  brakes. 
The  grass  is  cool,  the  seaside  air 
Buoyant  and  fresh,  the  mountain  flowers 
More  virginal  and  sweet  than  ours. 
And  there,  they  say,  two  bright  and  aged  snakes, 
That  once  were  Cadmus  and  Harmonia, 
Bask  in  the  glens  or  on  the  warm  sea  shore, 
In  breathless  quiet,  after  all  their  ills." 

He  looked  up  from  his  book.  "Singularly 
like  us,  my  dear,"  he  observed  to  his  wife. 

"Yes,  darhng,"  she  repUed.  "I  feel  aged, 
but  not  very  bright." 


4  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

Colonel  Lamont  rose,  revealing  six  feet  of 
lean  manhood  clad  in  the  most  ancient  of 
tweeds.  He  stared  for  some  minutes  at  the 
delectable  landscape  beneath  him.  A  shallow 
glen,  seamed  by  a  shining  river,  wound  to  a 
pale-blue  ocean.  It  was  bright  with  the  young 
grass  of  May,  and  patched  with  snowdrifts 
of  blossoming  hawthorn.  There  was  no  sound 
in  the  valley  except  the  ripple  of  the  stream 
and  the  faint  calling  of  curlews  from  the  hill. 

"I've  been  looking  forward  to  this  for  four 
years,"  he  said.  "Peace,  you  know  —  the  real 
peace  in  one's  own  place  among  one's  own 
people.  And  now  that  I  have  got  it  I  don't 
seem  properly  to  enjoy  it.  There  are  too  many 
empty  houses  in  the  glens.  Too  many  good 
fellows  who  will  never  gilhe  for  me  more. 
And  this  old  world  has  got  such  a  twist  that 
I  can't  see  it  setthng  down  in  our  time.  I  wish 
to  Heaven  I  knew  where  we  all  stood.  Kathie, 
my  dear,  I  am  feeling  very  much  older,  and  I 
am  losing  my  nerve." 

The  lady  looked  at  him  with  troubled  eyes. 
**Do  you  think  we  ought  to  be  entertaining 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP  5 

on  such  a  big  scale,  Arthur,  if  we  are  so  much 
poorer?" 

**  Confound  it,  my  dear,  it  is  not  the  money. 
Jennings  went  through  my  position  with  me 
yesterday,  and  we  are  still  pretty  well  off.  I 
would  n't  mind  paying  fifteen  shillings  in  the 
pound  in  taxes  for  the  rest  of  my  days.  No. 
It  is  the  country  I  am  worrying  about.  Here 
we  have  gone  and  sacrificed  the  better  part 
of  a  million  of  our  picked  men,  and  crippled 
hundreds  of  thousands  more  for  fife.  And  for 
what.'*  We  have  won,  of  course,  but  we  don't 
seem  to  know  what  we  've  won.  Those  damned 
politicians  are  at  the  job  again.  I  thought  we 
had  washed  all  that  out." 

"And  Bolshevism,  dear!"  said  his  wife. 

"And  every  little  faction  on  the  globe  want- 
ing to  turn  itself  into  a  State!" 

"And  our  own  Labour  people  so  discon- 
tented!" 

"And  all  this  business  of  the  League  of 
Nations!  How  on  earth  are  we  going  to  give 
up  our  Navy  and  trust  the  fortunes  of  Britain 
to  a  collection  of  Kilkenny  cats?" 


6  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

"It's  very  puzzling,  dear.  And  Agatha 
writes  me  such  miserable  letters  about  Regi- 
nald. He's  simply  wretched  at  being  out  of 
Parliament,  and  she  has  had  to  change  her 
cook  twice  since  Christmas." 

This  amoebean  plaint  was  interrupted  by 
the  appearance  of  a  young  woman.  She  was  a 
pretty,  fair-haired  creature,  with  eyes  too  old 
and  too  tragic  for  her  years;  yet  even  the  Kst- 
lessness  of  her  walk  and  the  sombre  black  of 
her  dress  could  not  muffle  the  grace  of  her 
youth.  She  carried  a  telegram,  which  her  aimt 
opened. 

"Martha  is  coming  by  to-morrow's  boat," 
Mrs.  Lamont  announced.  "How  very  fortu- 
nate! I  hope  you  will  like  Martha  Lavender, 
Phyllis.  She  is  so  buoyant  and  kind  and 
American  and  devoted  to  Arthur.  Without 
her  I  do  not  think  I  could  have  faced  Jeanne 
Sevenoaks." 

The  young  girl  showed  only  a  conventional 
interest. 

"Who  are  the  others.'^"  she  asked. 

"Nobody  young,  I  fear.  You  see  there  are 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP  7 

so  few  young  men  nowadays;  only  boys. 
There  are  the  Wypers  —  Albert  and  Pen. 
Pen  is  Arthur's  niece,  you  know,  and  she 
wrote  and  said  they  both  wanted  a  rest.'* 

Colonel  Lamont  snorted. 

"I  wish  she  were  coming  by  herself.  'Pon 
my  word,  Kathie,  I  don't  find  it  easy  to  be 
civil  to  Wyper.  He  patronises  me  so  infer- 
nally." 

"Well,  he  has  lost  his  seat  now,  and  prob- 
ably he  is  quite  humble.  We  must  be  nice  to 
him  for  Pen's  sake.  Then"  —  counting  on  her 
fingers  —  "there  is  Sir  William  Jacob.  Jeanne 
told  me  to  ask  him,  and  he  has  been  at  Oban 
on  some  Land  Commission.  The  great  lawyer, 
you  know,  my  dear." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  PhyUis.  "And  besides 
him?" 

"There's  Ursula  Aspenden.  You  must  like 
her.  So  good  and  charitable,  and  oh!  so 
pretty." 

"I  scarcely  know  her,"  said  the  girl. 

"There's  Christopher  Normand." 

"I  hke  him,"  said  Phyllis  emphatically. 


8  TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

"He  was  a  friend  of  Charlie's.  How  awful  for 
him  to  be  fairly  young  and  healthy  and  the 
best  shot  in  England  and  yet  not  to  be  allowed 
to  fight  because  of  his  lameness!  That  would 
have  driven  me  mad,  Aunt  Kathie.** 

"Well,  dear,"  —  and  the  older  woman 
patted  the  girl's  hand, —  "you  must  be  very 
kind  to  him.  Poor  Kit!  His  mother  was  such 
a  joy  to  me  till  she  went  mad  about  religion. 
That's  the  lot,  I  think.  Except,  of  course, 
Margaret  Guidwillie." 

"Thank  God,  she  is  coming,"  Colonel 
Lamont  said  fervently.  "She  has  a  tongue 
that  would  take  the  skin  off  a  rhino,  but  I 
would  sooner  have  her  at  my  back  in  a  row 
than  any  ten  men.  She  ought  to  be  here  for 
tea,  for  she  is  coming  by  the  ferry  from  Rona. 
I  sent  the  wagonette  to  meet  her." 

The  girl  seemed  unsatisfied.  "Did  n't  Uncle 
Arthur  say  something  about  a  Labour 
Member.?" 

"Oh,  my  dear,  I  forgot.  Yes,  he  is  one  of 
Martha's  friends.  He  has  been  very  ill  and 
recruiting  in  Scotland.  His  name"  —  and  she 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP  9 

consulted  a  small  address-book  in  her  bag  — 
"is  James  Burford,  Martha  calls  him  'Jim- 
mie,*  and  often  'My  Jimmie.'" 

"I  must  confess  that  the  thought  of  him 
makes  me  confoundedly  nervous,"  said  Colo- 
nel Lamont.  "I  don't  a  bit  trust  Martha 
Lavender's  judgment.  You  remember  when 
she  planted  me  with  a  young  Hindu  who  was 
some  beastly  kind  of  a  god.  The  fellow  may  be 
as  spiky  as  a  hedgehog,  if  he  is  not  as  mad  as 
a  hatter.  I  never  met  a  Labour  Member  in  my 
life." 

"He  is  not  a  Member,"  said  his  wife.  "He 
was  beaten  by  ten  thousand  votes  by  the  man 
who  makes  all  the  potted  meats.  Martha  says 
he  is  a  saint." 

"A  what!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Burford's  pro- 
spective host  in  dire  alarm. 

Then  he  turned  and  gazed  at  the  grass 
slopes  beyond  the  sunk  fence,  for  some  one 
was  making  his  way  towards  them  from  that 
quarter.  The  stranger  was  obviously  out  of 
breath  and  took  a  long  time  to  cross  the  ha-ha. 
Then  he  caught  sight  of  the  house  and  stood 


10  TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

blinking  at  it,  till  he  became  conscious  of  the 
presence  of  people  in  the  arbour. 

As  he  turned  towards  them  Colonel  Lamont 
saw  a  squarely  built  man  of  about  thirty-five, 
with  a  broad,  cheerful  face.  Short-sighted  blue 
eyes  peered  through  horn  spectacles,  and  a 
thatch  of  untidy  hair  was  revealed,  since  he 
had  removed  his  hat  to  cool  his  brow.  He  was 
curiously  dressed  for  that  part  of  the  world, 
wearing  a  black  coat  and  a  bowler  hat.  In  his 
hand  he  carried  a  small  kit-bag,  which  he 
dumped  on  the  gravel  walk. 

"Is  it  Colonel  Lamont.''"  he  asked,  beam- 
ing at  the  party  in  the  arbour. 

*'I  am  James  Burford,  sir,**  he  continued. 
"I  was  due  to  come  to-morrow,  but  the 
weather  was  so  fine  that  I  got  a  small  boat  to 
put  me  over  to  Kylanish  and  I  walked  the 
rest.  It 's  a  bit  of  an  intrusion,  but  you  know 
what  we  city  folks  are  like  when  we  get  on 
holiday." 

He  spoke  in  a  soft  West-Midland  voice  with 
a  slurring  of  "s's"  and  a  shght  burr  iA  the 
"r's";  and  he  looked  so  friendly  and  boylike 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         11 

as  he  made  his  apologies  that  his  three  hearers 
vied  with  each  other  in  declaring  their  pleas- 
ure at  the  sight  of  him. 

Presently  across  the  lawn  came  the  butler, 
followed  by  a  footman  and  a  parlourmaid  with 
the  materials  of  tea.  Ere  Mrs.  Lamont  had 
poured  out  a  single  cup  the  butler  appeared 
again,  ushering  another  guest,  at  the  sight  of 
whom  Colonel  Lamont  leaped  to  his  feet  in  a 
fervour  of  welcome. 

The  newcomer  was  a  tall  lady  clad  in  a  dark- 
green  tartan  skirt,  a  tweed  coat,  and  a  well- 
worn  leather  hat.  She  might  have  been  any 
age  between  forty  and  sixty,  for  her  face  bore 
the  marks  rather  of  weather  than  of  time.  In 
her  big,  gauntleted  hands  she  swung  a  stick 
like  a  shepherd's  crook,  and  her  walk  was  that 
of  one  more  familiar  with  the  moors  than  the 
pavements.  Mr.  Burford  once  again  removed 
his  bowler  as  he  was  presented  to  the  Lady 
Guidwillie  of  Waucht. 

"Tea,  as  you  love  me,  Kathie,"  she  said. 
*'  I  've  got  an  appetite  like  a  hunter,"  and,  seiz- 
ing two  buttered  scones,  she  began  her  meal. 


12  TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

Colonel  Lamont  detained  the  retreating 
butler.  "What  about  your  luggage,  Mr. 
Burford?"  he  asked. 

"It's  all  here,"  said  that  gentleman,  hand- 
ing over  his  little  bag.  "I'm  one  that  travels 
light." 

"You  know  something  about  food,  Kathie," 
observed  Lady  Guidwillie  when  she  had 
taken  the  edge  off  her  hunger. 

"I  hope  you  don't  think  it  wicked  to  have 
tea  in  the  old-fashioned  way,"  said  the  hostess 
to  Mr.  Burford.  "We  cut  off  cream  and  sugar 
and  cakes  during  the  war,  but  Arthur  made 
me  have  them  back  again." 

"And  quite  right  too.  I  am  not  going  to 
let  the  war  or  anything  else  come  between 
me  and  a  good  tea." 

Lady  Guidwillie  regarded  him  with  curi- 
osity mingled  with  approval.  He  had  suddenly 
risen  and  was  staring  towards  the  west,  where 
a  very  beautiful  golden  shimmer  lay  on  the 
sea.  "That  beats  cock-fighting,"  was  his  trib- 
ute. Then  he  announced  his  wish  to  get  to 
higher  ground  to  see  what  lay  behind  a  certain 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         13 

woody  cape,  and  Phyllis  was  commandeered 
to  show  him  the  road. 

**Who  on  earth  is  he?"  asked  Lady  Guid- 
willie,  as  soon  as  the  two  were  out  of  earshot. 

"A  Labour  Member,"  said  Mrs.  Lamont. 
"At  least  he  was  before  the  last  election.  He 
is  a  friend  of  Martha  Lavender.  She  says  he 's 
a  saint." 

"Let  me  hear  what  sort  of  menagerie  you 
have  brought  me  into.  I  have  been  so  bored 
at  Waucht  that  I  want  to  go  into  society. 
First,  who  are  the  women?  I  think  you  told 
me  that  Martha  was  coming?" 

"By  to-morrow's  boat.  You  like  her,  don't 
you,  Margaret?" 

"I  love  her.  What  is  her  latest  form  of  mis- 
chief-making?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  agree.  She  never  makes  mis- 
chief. She  is  always  on  the  side  of  the  angels." 

"The  elves,  you  mean.  Her  father  didn't 
make  a  fortune  in  the  Chicago  wheat-pit.  Her 
father  was  Puck,  and  she  follows  him  in  put- 
ting a  girdle  round  the  earth.  Next?" 
^"Ursula  Aspenden." 


14  TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

"Kind  and  silly.  I  make  it  my  business  to 
shock  her  on  every  possible  occasion." 

"And  Jeanne  Sevenoaks." 

"I  retire.  She'll  do  tlie  shocking.  \Miy  does 
she  insist  upon  being  called  Jeanne.'  Her  good 
father  christened  her  Jane.  He  was  a  most 
excellent  man  who  used  to  take  one  of  Guid- 
willie's  moors  and  made  a  great  deal  of  money 
in  floorcloth  somewhere  near  Falkirk.  .  .  . 
Arthur,  I  hear  you  are  getting  peevish.  You 
are  not  like  Doris  Cranlegh,  I  hope,  who 
thinks  that  the  war  has  been  fought  in  vain 
because  she  can't  get  under-housemaids.'*" 

Colonel  Lamont  smiled  down  on  his  old 
friend. 

"I  don't  think  I  am  peevish,  but  I  am  a 
little  out  of  my  bearings.  We  all  are.  I  want 
something  extra  fine  to  come  out  of  the  busi- 
ness when  the  price  has  been  so  high.  You  see, 
I  cannot  bear  to  think  that  our  best  have  died 
except  for  the  very  best." 

"No,"  said  Lady  Guidwillie,  in  what  for 
her  was  a  very  gentle  tone.  "No,  that  is  not 
to  be  borne." 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         15 

"And  since  the  whole  nation  has  suffered, 
every  one  must  feel  the  same." 

"Has  the  whole  nation  suffered?  Some  have 
led  very  sheltered  lives.  Our  own  class  has 
paid  nobly,  and  the  poor,  and  the  lower  mid- 
dle class  most  of  all.  The  little  tradesmen  and 
professional  men,  I  mean.  But  there  have 
been  big  ugly  patches  of  embusquSs  and  profit- 
eers, and  I  do  not  see  why  the  working-classes 
at  home  should  take  so  much  credit  to  them- 
selves. They  worked  hard,  no  doubt,  but  they 
were  never  in  danger  and  had  mighty  fine 
wages,  while  the  soldiers  flirted  witli  death 
for  a  shilling  a  day.  I  wonder  what  your  black- 
coated  friend  says  to  that.'^" 

Mr.  Burford  and  Phyllis  were  returning. 
As  he  reached  the  arbour  a  footman  ap- 
proached and  asked  him  for  his  keys. 

"Never  had  any,"  he  said  cheerily.  "The 
old  bag's  got  a  broken  lock." 


n 

In  which  the  ears  of  the  company  are  assailed  by  sundry 
political  phrases. 

Lady  Sevenoaks  and  Mrs.  Lavender  on  the 
evening  of  their  arrival  were  walking  on  the 
south  terrace  awaiting  the  summons  of  the 
dressing-bell.  They  were  a  remarkable  con- 
trast, the  first  tall,  slim,  and  golden-haired, 
with  somewhat  languid  blue  eyes,  the  second 
dark  and  small  and  alert  as  a  linnet.  Both 
were  libertines  in  speech,  the  one  with  a  tal- 
ent for  epigrammatic  extravagance,  the  other 
shrewd  and  racy  as  one  of  her  husband's  cow- 
punchers.  That  gentleman,  indeed,  was  wont 
to  remark  that  he  would  back  his  Martha  to 
talk  down  a  Democratic  caucus,  and  that  if 
her  old-time  namesake  of  the  Scriptures  had 
been  Hke  her,  he  reckoned  Mary  would  have 
quit  business. 

**  Martha,  darling,**  said  Lady  Sevenoaks, 
"did  you  ever  —  ever  in  your  life  —  see  such 


1 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         17 

a  collection  as  Kathie  has  got  together?  Her 
parties  were  always  Hke  a  table  d'hote^  but  this 
beats  —  how  do  you  say  it,  darhng?'* 

*'The  band,"  said  Mrs.  Lavender. 

**It  is  so  difficult  for  me,  you  know,  feeling 
as  I  do  about  George's  career  and  the  shame- 
ful way  he  has  been  treated.  Wilham  Jacob, 
of  course,  is  a  true  friend.  But  it  was  Wyper 
and  his  horrid  cranks  that  wrecked  our  party. 
And  the  Labour  man  —  Bunyan,  is  n't  it?  — 
I  know  just  how  unpleasant  he  will  be,  talking 
nonsense  about  the  triumph  of  Democracy 
and  exulting  in  the  destruction  of  what  he 
calls  the  Old  Gang." 

"  Jimmie  was  beat  himself,"  said  the  other. 
**And  he  never  exults.  It  is  n't  in  his  nature. 
You  had  better  be  nice  about  Jimmie,  my 
dear,  or  you  will  rouse  the  lurking  savage  in 
me.  Remember  I'm  only  one  generation  re- 
moved from  the  pioneer.'* 

*'Well,  if  he  won't  exult,  Margaret  Guid- 
willie  will.  I  can  see  it  in  her  rude  old  eyes. 
Some  day  soon  I  shall  detest  her.  Poor  Guid- 
willie!  She  never  appreciated  him.  He  died  of 


18  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

a  surfeit  of  haggis  and  brown  sherry  —  such 
an  odd  death,  darhng,  but  so  characteristic. 
George  always  loved  dining  with  him.'* 

"She  is  the  only  woman  in  the  world,"  said 
Mrs.  Lavender,  "that  I  think  I  am  a  Uttle 
afraid  of.  Your  grand  dames  don't  worry  me 
a  httle  bit.  They're  always  acting  stylish, 
and  if  you  kick  away  their  httle  pedestal  they 
look  foohsh.  But  she's  so  sure  of  herself  that 
she  never  wants  to  be  anybody  else.  Twenty 
generations  of  cold  northeasters  and  high- 
handed economy  and  the  Presbyterian  rehgion 
give  a  woman  something  to  stand  on.  I  feel 
new  and  raw  before  her,  like  a  small,  impudent 
Israelite  looking  up  at  the  walls  of  Jericho." 

At  that  moment  the  dressing-bell  sounded, 
and  as  the  two  ladies  moved  upstairs  they  en- 
countered Mr.  Albert  Wyper.  He  carried  an 
attache  case  and  several  weekly  papers.  He  had 
a  soft,  shapeless  face,  a  humourless  eye,  and 
an  untidy  person. 

"I  have  found  a  new  theory  of  Democracy 
in  a  French  review,"  he  said,  "and  am  writing 
a  letter  to  the  New  Republic  on  the  subject. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         19 

It  may  interest  you,  Lady  Sevenoaks,  for  one 
of  your  husband's  speeches  is  the  text." 

"Martha,"  said  that  lady  at  her  bedroom 
door,  "this  is  a  very  fooHsh  world.  When  I 
was  a  young  girl  Democracy  meant  the  Lib- 
eral majority,  and  was  chiefly  mentioned  in 
the  House  of  Lords.  Then  the  Labour  Party 
discovered  the  word  and  it  came  to  mean  the 
Poor.  Now  it  stands  for  everything  which  any 
speaker  likes  and  agrees  with.  If  we  had  come 
in,  we  should  have  been  triumphant  Democ- 
racy; as  it  is  we  are  efiFete  aristocrats  whom 
the  Democrats  of  Carlton  House  Terrace  and 
Eccleston  Square  are  going  to  slay.  I  wish  we 
could  go  back  to  Whig  and  Tory.  They  were 
prettier  words  and  meant  something.  I  know 
they  will  all  talk  about  Democracy  at  dinner 
and  I  shall  be  quite  unwell." 

But  at  dinner  the  high,  clear  voice  of  Mrs. 
Aspenden  discoursed  of  history. 

"I  have  been  reading  all  about  this  place," 
she  announced.  "Do  you  know  that  St.  Bran- 
dan  came  here  on  his  great  voyage.'^  It  is  his 
Island  of  Sheep,  where  he  found  the  lamb  for 


20  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

the  Paschal  sacrifice.  There  is  a  beautiful  pas- 
sage about  it  translated  out  of  some  old  Latin 
chronicle.  He  sailed,  you  remember,  out  of 
tempestuous  seas  and  came  suddenly  to  a 
green  isle  of  peace  with  sheep  feeding  among 
the  meadows.  And  long  after  him  the  monks 
had  their  cells  on  the  west  shore,  looking  out 
to  the  sunset.  Who  can  tell  me  more  about 
it?" 

"You  had  better  talk  to  Mr.  Macmillan," 
said  the  host.  "He  is  the  minister,  and  you'll 
hear  him  preach  to-morrow.'* 

"He  is  the  great  scholar  of  these  parts,'* 
Lady  Guidwillie  volunteered.  "But  he's  not 
very  interested  in  the  monks.  He  prefers  the 
ruffians  from  whom  I  descended  —  the  North-_ 
men  who  came  down  on  the  islands  and 
cleared  out  the  saints." 

"How  horrible!"  said  Mrs.  Aspenden.  **It 
sounds  as  if  he  were  a  Prussian.'* 

Colonel  Lamont  laughed.  "He'd  be  amused 
if  you  told  him  that.  In  the  war  he  was  chap- 
lain to  one  of  the  Cameron  battalions,  and  he 
used  to  go  over  the  top  with  the  men  and  lay 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         21 

about  him.  He's  a  good  man  of  his  hands, 
Macmillan." 

Mr.  Christopher  Normand  was  sitting  next 
to  Lady  Sevenoaks.  He  was  a  strongly  built 
man  of  forty-five,  whose  clean-shaven  face 
had  the  high  gloss  given  by  much  open  air 
and  a  good  digestion.  But  for  his  lameness  he 
was  a  fine  figure  of  masculine  strength.  A  curi- 
ous sadness  in  his  eye  and  a  delicacy  about 
the  mouth  and  chin  softened  the  impression 
of  vigour  given  by  his  bodily  presence,  and 
his  brow  was  rather  that  of  a  scholar  and 
dreamer  than  of  a  Yorkshire  hunting  squire. 

"I  like  the  story,"  he  said  to  his  neighbour. 
"To  come  out  of  stormy  seas  to  a  green  isle 
of  quietness!  It  is  what  we  are  all  seeking. 
Democracy  is  a  great  and  wonderful  thing, 
but  it  does  not  make  for  peace." 

"There!"  exclaimed  Lady  Sevenoaks.  "I 
knew  it.  Already  we  have  reached  that  odious 
subject." 

"Which?"  asked  the  man.  "Peace  or  De- 
mocracy?" 

"She  means  Democracy,"  said  Mrs.  Lav- 


22  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

ender.  "Jeanne  is  sore  about  it,  for  it  has 
jilted  her." 

"My  dear  Jane,"  said  Lady  Guidwillie, 
"it  is  you  who  are  inconstant.  Six  years  ago 
the  word  was  never  out  of  your  mouth.  When- 
ever your  party  was  in  a  hole,  you  declared 
it  was  fighting  the  battle  of  Democracy. 
When  you  were  told  that  you  had  lost  the 
support  of  sensible  people,  you  said  that  any- 
how Democracy  was  on  your  side.  You  once 
announced,  I  remember,  that  triumphant 
Democracy  would  make  short  work  of  people 
like  me.  .  .  .  Surely  the  thing  can't  have 
changed  so  utterly  in  six  years." 

Lady  Sevenoaks  raised  her  languid  eyehds. 

"It  has.  Then  it  meant  something.  Now  it 
means  precisely  what  a  few  thousand  different 
people  choose  to  make  it  mean.  It  is  democ- 
racy to  make  Germany  pay  all  our  bills,  and 
democracy  to  forgive  our  enemies.  It  is  demo- 
cratic to  establish  new  nationalities,  and  demo- 
cratic to  get  rid  of  nationality  altogether. 
The  whole  of  political  debate  nowadays  is  one 
welter  of  crudities  and  contradictions." 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         23 

The  fine  voice  of  Sir  William  Jacob  was 
heard.  "We  must  stick  to  proved  definitions. 
For  me  it  has  been  defined  once  and  for  all  by 
Lincoln  —  government  of  the  people,  by  the 
people,  for  the  people." 

"An  idle  dream,"  said  Mr.  Normand.  "Of 
the  people  —  yes.  For  the  people  —  perhaps 
in  good  time,  when  we  have  hanged  a  few 
score  political  arrivistes.  But  by  the  people  — 
never.  Government  is  an  expert  business,  hke 
any  other  science.  You  can  choose  your  ad- 
ministrators from  any  class,  but  they  will  still 
be  a  sect  apart.  You  can  no  more  give  all  the 
people  a  share  in  the  practice  of  government 
than  you  can  make  them  all  their  own  den- 
tists." 

Mr.  Wyper's  eye  brightened,  for  this  kind 
of  discussion  was  after  his  own  heart. 

"That  is  an  old  difficulty,  but  it  seems  to 
me  to  rest  in  a  confusion  of  thought.  The  peo- 
ple reign,  but  they  do  not  govern  except  at 
intervals.  No.  I  don't  mean  General  Elections. 
Three  fourths  of  administration  they  are  con- 
tent to  entrust  to  their  chosen  representatives 


24         THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

without  much  supervision.  But  in  greater 
matters  and  the  things  which  affect  them 
deeply,  they  exercise,  and  should  exercise,  a 
direct  control  through  many  channels.  Our 
business  is  to  devise  a  machinery  of  govern- 
ment which  will  make  this  direct  control  easy 
and  exact  at  the  proper  moments.  ...  I  do 
not  complain  of  the  last  election.  A  nation  is 
entitled  to  its  hour  of  pique  and  prejudice  as  I 
am  permitted  an  occasional  fit  of  bad  temper.'* 

"Democracy,  then,  may  be  Tory  and  Rad- 
ical and  Socialist  by  turns  and  yet  remain 
Democracy?"  asked  Mr.  Normand. 

"Certainly." 

"It  is  a  comforting  doctrine  for  the  politi- 
cian. But  we  ordinary  folk  want  something 
more.  We  want  it  to  be  wise.  What  is  the  good 
of  making  the  world  safe  for  something  called 
Democracy  unless  that  thing  is  worthy  of 
safety?  We  are  too  much  concerned  with  ma- 
chinery for  doing  this  or  that,  and  we  do  not 
stop  to  consider  whether  this  or  that  is  worth 
doing.  We  are  very  German,  you  know." 

"Surely,"  said  Sir  WilUam  Jacob,  "it  is 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         25 

worth  doing  —  to  make  the  will  of  the  people 
prevail." 

"I  don't  see  why,  unless  it  is  a  good  will 
and  a  reasonable  will.  If  it  is  bad  and  unjust 
I  want  to  put  every  obstacle  in  the  way  of  its 
prevailing." 

Sir  WiUiam  laughed.  **So  that  is  your  Tory 
Democracy,  my  dear  Normand.  It  is  you  who 
are  the  Prussian.  You  are  prepared  to  let  the 
people  govern  only  if  they  behave  as  superior 
persons  direct  them.  That  is  not  my  notion  of 
hberty." 

Christopher  Normand  demurred.  "The 
sovereignty  of  the  people  is  a  fact,  and  only 
a  fool  would  try  to  upset  it.  But  I  don't  see 
why  it  should  be  necessarily  a  good  thing.  It 
may  be  extraordinarily  muddle-headed  and 
perverse,  if  the  people  are  foolish.  That's  my 
objection  to  the  common  eulogists  of  Democ- 
racy. The  system  is  the  best  or  the  worst  ac- 
cording to  the  way  it  is  worked,  but  it  has  no 
intrinsic  guarantee  of  goodness.  When  it's 
good  it's  very  very  good,  and  when  it  is  bad 
it's  horrid." 


26  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

Mr.  Burford  had  so  far  not  spoken  a  word, 
but  had  eaten  his  dinner  with  much  content- 
ment. Now  he  observed  that  it  was  high  time 
pohticians  stopped  being  mealy-mouthed 
about  the  People.  "We  can't  get  on,"  he  said, 
"without  a  bit  of  rough-tonguing  when  we 
deserve  it.  There's  been  a  deal  too  much  of 
the  cap-in-hand  business.  Working-folk  don't 
like  it." 

"I  sat  for  a  great  working-class  constitu- 
ency for  many  years,"  said  Sir  William.  "I 
found  they  responded  most  readily  to  any 
appeal  to  their  higher  instincts.  .  .  .  But  I 
confess  that  these  higher  instincts  seem  for 
the  moment  to  be  submerged." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Lavender.. 
"They're  out  on  a  bust.  It  does  them  good 
to  kick  up  their  heels  now  and  then,  the  same 
as  you  and  me.'* 

The  picture  of  Sir  Wilham  Jacob  kicking  up 
his  heels  in  the  company  of  Mrs.  Lavender 
was  too  much  for  the  gravity  of  Mr.  Burford. 
He  laughed  merrily,  but  there  was  no  response 
from  the  other  guests.  Lady  Sevenoaks  was 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         27 

fretful,  Mr.  Normand  sunk  in  apparently 
painful  meditations,  Mr.  Wyper  cross,  and 
Sir  William  abstracted,  while  the  host  and 
hostess  had  had  their  worst  fears  confirmed 
by  the  preceding  conversation.  Dinner  ended 
in  a  mood  of  dismal  resignation  to  fate. 

In  the  drawing-room  later  Mr.  Burford  sat 
beside  Phyllis. 

"I  hate  everybody's  pessimism,"  said  the 
girl. 

"They  ain't  pessimistic,"  said  the  man. 
"  They  're  only  puzzled.  You  see,  none  of  them 
have  been  fighting,  except  the  Colonel." 

"But  you're  cheerful,  and  you  weren't 
fighting." 

"No,"  he  said  sadly,  "I  wasn't.  They 
would  n't  have  me  even  for  a  Base  job.  My 
eyesight's  nothing  to  boast  of." 

"And  yet  you  don't  stand  aside  and  pro- 
phesy darkly  about  the  People,  as  if  they  were 
some  new  kind  of  influenza." 

"I'd  have  to  get  outside  my  skin  to  do  it," 
he  said,  tilting  up  his  spectacles  and  peering 
at  her  with  his  curious,  merry  eyes.  "I'm  one 


28  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

of  them,  just  an  ordinary  sample  of  the  forty 
million  working-folk  they're  so  scared  at. 
You  would  n't  ask  me  to  get  scared  at  my- 
self?'* 


Ill 

An  Island  Sabbath  morning.  The  Minister  of  the  Parish 
mounts  the  chaire  de  verite.  Two  young  men  and  a 
Labour  leader  enliven  a  depressed  gathering. 

The  Sabbath  morning  dawned  blue  and  shin- 
ing, with  that  dehcate,  clear  Hght  which  is 
found  only  in  an  island  set  amid  miles  of  sea. 
A  light  wind  came  from  the  mainland,  bring- 
ing scents  of  spring.  Under  ordinary  circum- 
stances Colonel  Lamont  would  have  been  in 
good  spirits  and  would  have  whistled  his  one 
tune,  *'Auld  Lang  Syne,"  while  dressing,  but 
the  memory  of  the  depression  of  the  previous 
evening  weighed  him  down. 

"We've  got  a  nice  collection  of  Job's  com- 
forters," he  informed  his  wife. 

"I  can't  understand  it,"  was  the  plaintive 
reply.  "Even  Ursula,  who  used  to  be  so  sweet, 
is  difficult." 

"Burford  is  the  only  fellow  who  is  n't  afraid 
to  laugh.  I  like  him  immensely.  He  reminds 


30  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

me  of  an  old  collie  my  father  had  when  I  was 
a  child.  Same  jolly,  trusty  eyes." 

"I  think  Jeanne  is  in  a  very  bad  temper,'* 
said  his  wife.  "Poor  darling,  she  has  much  to 
try  her.  But  she  really  is  very  rude.  Ursula 
was  telling  us  about  the  Havering  engage- 
ment, and  said  they  were  touchingly  happy. 
Jeanne  said  in  her  gentlest  voice,  which  always 
frightens  me,  'Yes,  I  saw  them  last  week 
lunching  at  the  Ritz.  As  happy  as  two  little 
birds.  And  such  ugly  little  birds,  dear.'" 

So  tonic  was  the  air,  however,  that  the  com- 
pany at  breakfast  were  in  better  spirits.  Mr. 
Burford,  who  had  been  early  abroad,  had 
some  colour  in  his  face,  and  his  stubborn 
thatch  of  hair  was  in  more  than  its  usual 
disorder. 

Mrs.  Aspenden  had  a  grievance.  The  night 
before  she  had  inquired  as  to  the  whereabouts 
of  the  church,  and,  being  uninstructed  in  the 
theological  differences  of  her  country,  had  set 
out  according  to  custom  for  early  service.  She 
had  been  sadly  disappointed. 

*'I  found  a  square  building  hke  a  furniture 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         81 

repository,"  she  complained.  "It  was  locked, 
and  there  was  nobody  about  except  a  man  in 
a  garden,  a  man  in  his  shirt-sleeves  smoking 
a  pipe." 

"That  would  be  Macmillan,"  said  Colonel 
Lamont. 

"The  parson!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Aspenden 
in  horror.  "Why  wasn't  his  church  open,  if 
only  that  one  might  pray  in  it?" 

"Dear  Ursula  is  very  High,"  whispered 
Lady  Sevenoaks  to  her  neighbour,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  Mr.  Wyper.  "She  finds  spiritual 
consolation  in  attending  private  theatricals 
before  breakfast."  Mr.  Wyper,  who  professed 
agnosticism,  received  this  piece  of  irreverence 
with  sympathy. 

"I  did  a  bit  of  praying  myself,"  said  Mr. 
Burford.  "But  I  did  it  on  the  lawn.  You  don't 
want  churches  on  a  May  morning." 

It  was  weather  which  did  not  permit  of 
lethargy,  and  when  the  Lamonts  appeared 
equipped  for  church  they  found  among  their 
guests  an  unexpected  desire  to  accompany 
them.  Even  Mr.  Wyper  set  down  his  attache 


32  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

case,  from  whicli  he  was  rarely  separated,  and 
looked  for  his  hat.  Lady  Sevenoaks  was  late 
and  was  therefore  compelled  to  accompany 
Mrs.  Aspenden,  who  was  driven  by  her  con- 
science to  attend  some  place  of  worship  in 
spite  of  the  irregularities  of  the  smoking 
parson. 

The  minister  was  a  man  of  fifty-five,  short 
in  stature,  black-bearded,  and  as  strong  as  a 
Highland  bull.  His  battered,  brown  complex- 
ion and  far-sighted  grey  eyes  gave  him  the 
air  of  a  deep-sea  skipper  masquerading  as  a 
landsman.  He  was  a  bachelor  who  had  led  a 
peaceful  life  of  honest  parochial  work,  varied 
with  excursions  into  scholarship  and  fishing 
whenever  fish  were  to  be  caught,  till  the  war 
had  swept  him  to  France  for  four  strenuous 
years.  His  voice,  as  happens  sometimes  with 
such  a  figure,  was  one  of  great  sweetness  and 
melody,  and  he  spoke  pure  English  with  a  soft 
GaeHc  intonation. 

In  the  bare  little  kirk,  through  whose  plain 
glass  windows  might  be  seen  the  wheeling  of 
gulls  and  plovers  on  the  moor,  there  was  but 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         33 

a  slender  congregation.  Most  waited  for  the 
Gaelic  service  in  the  afternoon,  for  Mr.  Mac- 
millan's  English  discourses  were  sometimes 
hard  for  his  parishioners  to  understand.  The 
big  sheep-farmer  from  Lith,  having  had  a 
heavy  week  at  Oban,  was  soon  asleep.  The 
family  from  the  Xylanish  inn  had  new  clothes 
and  sat  in  self-conscious  pride;  the  innkeeper's 
son,  late  of  the  Argylls,  was  self-conscious  too, 
for  he  was  a  hero  just  returned  to  his  native 
land.  A  few  fishermen  and  herds  made  up  the 
rest  of  the  flock,  save  for  Colonel  Lamont's 
party. 

Mr.  Macmillan,  taking  as  his  text  the  First 
Epistle  of  St.  Peter,  the  first  chapter,  the 
twelfth  verse,  and  the  last  clause  of  the  verse, 
*' Which  things  the  angels  desire  to  look  into," 
discoursed  upon  the  present  discontents  and 
asked  questions. 

Every  one,  he  said,  knew  roughly  for  what 
we  had  been  fighting.  We  had  been  resisting 
Germany's  claim  to  impose  her  will  upon  the 
world.  We  should  have  been  right  in  our  oppo- 
sition, even  had  that  will  been  a  good  will;  but 


34  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

as  a  matter  of  fact  it  was  in  the  main  a  bad 
will.  That  point,  at  any  rate,  was  clear. 

But  now  came  the  difficulty.  We  were  in 
danger  of  labelling  every  part  of  Germany's 
creed  as  evil  and  of  affirming  as  our  own  creed 
the  direct  opposite.  For  example  — 

Germany  stood  for  the  super-nationality, 
the  big  coordinating  union  of  peoples.  Bad, 
no  doubt,  as  she  conceived  it.  But  was  the 
principle  wrong .^^  The  alternative  was  a  chaos 
of  feeble  statelets  based  on  trivial  differences 
—  economically  weak,  politically  unstable. 
Were  we  prepared  to  put  all  the  emphasis  on 
self-determination.'*  If  we  did,  we  should  not 
get  freedom,  but  anarchy.  We  should  undo  the 
long  work  of  civilisation. 

Again,  Germany  stood  in  an  arrogant  and 
offensive  way  for  nationality  itself,  fidelity, 
as  Burke  said,  to  the  platoon  in  which  men 
are  born.  We  entered  the  war  for  the  same 
principle,  because  Germany  had  pressed  hers 
so  far  that  it  had  become  incompatible  with 
the  existence  of  any  other  nationalism.  But 
some  of  the  opposition  to  Germany  came  from 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         35 

people  to  whom  the  whole  notion  of  nation- 
ality was  repugnant.  During  the  war  we  made 
a  pet  of  the  extreme  German  Socialists  who 
would  divide  the  world  horizontally  by  classes. 
Let  us  beware  lest  in  opposing  Germany's 
foolish  exaggeration  we  denied  a  doctrine 
which  lay  at  the  root  of  civilisation,  and  allied 
ourselves  with  civilisation's  arch  enemies. 
"Non  tali  auxilio,"  said  Mr.  Macmillan. 

Lastly,  Germany  stood  for  something  not 
wholly  material  or  base.  She  had  an  ideal, 
cross-grained  and  perverted  in  the  hearts  of 
many  of  her  classes,  but  amongst  simple  folk 
capable  of  affording  an  honest  inspiration. 
At  its  worst  it  was  something  not  utterly 
without  moral  value,  something  which  in- 
volved renunciation  and  sacrifice.  It  was 
nobler  than  mere  loaves  and  fishes.  She  be- 
lieved in  the  historic  state,  enriched  with  the 
long-descended  gifts  of  time,  though  in  her 
folly  she  mistook  the  mechanical  for  the  or- 
ganic. But  were  there  no  mechanists  among 
her  opponents.'*  There  were  those,  even  in 
Britain,  who  sought  to  defeat  Germany  only 


36  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

to  replace  her  blunder  by  one  of  their  own  — 
to  set  up  a  British  or  American  or  French 
world-mechanism  instead  of  a  Teutonic.  The 
selfish  rich  on  the  one  side  and  the  crude 
demagogue  on  the  other  both  dreamed  of  a 
Prussianism  not  a  whit  nobler  and  far  less 
well-considered  than  Germany's.  "For  God's 
sake,"  said  the  preacher,  "do  not  let  us  for- 
sake the  complex  legacy  of  the  past,  with  its 
equipoise  and  balance  and  deep  foundations, 
for  a  jerry-built  usurpation  of  some  raw  new 
class.  Let  us  oppose  Germany's  darkness,  not 
her  gleams  of  light.  Those  who  would  base 
the  world  on  a  shallow  Marxian  materialism 
are  more  Prussian  than  the  Prussians.  The 
Junker  creed  has  more  ideahsm  than  the 
Spartacist,  and  the  Russians  who  fought  for 
a  corrupt  czardom  were  better  men  than  the 
Bolsheviks  who  fight  for  their  own  pockets.'* 
Mr.  Macmillan,  conscious  of  an  honourable 
record  in  the  war,  thus  paid  his  tribute  to  our 
late  enemies.  Himself  a  determined  Calvinist, 
he  now  said  a  good  word  for  the  Church  of 
Rome. 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         37 

"I  have  no  particular  weakness  for  the 
Vatican,"  he  observed;  "but,  again,  let  us 
fight  against  darkness  and  not  against  light. 
The  Roman  Church  stands  for  much  which 
the  world  dare  not  lose.  We  have  been  irri- 
tated by  its  apparent  weakness  and  time- 
serving, but  let  us  consider  its  strength.  It  is 
for  the  historic  bequest  of  Europe  against 
crude  novelties,  for  a  spiritual  interpretation 
of  life  against  a  barren  utilitarianism,  for 
dogma  and  ascertained  truth  against  the 
opportunist,  the  sciolist,  and  the  half-baked. 
Those  of  us  who  believe  in  God  cannot  do 
without  its  aid.  By  all  means  let  us  condemn 
its  blunders  in  diplomacy  and  politics,  but  do 
not  let  us  abuse  it  as  a  dead  hand  on  a  living 
world.  For,  if  it  is  dead,  then  the  world  also 
is  dying." 

"I  appeal  to  you,"  he  concluded,  "to  culti- 
vate honesty  and  scrupulousness  of  mind.  In 
the  present  welter  of  ideas  we  may  drift 
towards  false  gods.  If  we  make  our  creed  the 
exact  opposite  of  all  that  Germany  strove  for, 
then  without  doubt  we  shall  slip  into  a  worse 


38  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

kind  of  Germanism,  shoddier,  narrower,  falser 
than  that  which  we  have  fought  in  the  field. 
Let  us  try  to  forget  political  tactics  and  do  a 
little  serious  thinking  about  principles." 

This  appeal  had  no  effect  upon  the  sheep- 
farmer  from  Lith,  who  slumbered  through  it, 
or  on  the  young  ladies  from  the  inn,  who  did 
not  understand  it.  The  native  congregation 
were  waiting  for  the  good  gospel  in  Gaelic  in 
the  afternoon.  But  Colonel  Lamont's  party 
listened  with  an  attention  which  few  of  them 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  according  to  a  sermon. 

As  they  walked  home  by  the  white  moor- 
road,  Mrs.  Lavender  approached  her  hostess. 

"Tell  me,  Kathie  dear,  when  are  the  boys 
coming?  You  said  you  expected  George  Maid- 
win  and  my  little  cousin  Penrose." 

"They  should  be  here  after  dinner.  They 
get  a  boat  from  Rona.  George  was  to  motor 
there  this  morning." 

"I  hope  you  won't  mind,  but  I  asked  Pen- 
rose to  bring  on  D.  C.  Jonas.  He  was  in  Glas- 
gow for  an  engineers'  conference,  and  I 
thought  he  would  be  the  better  for  your  sea 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         39 

breezes.  Besides,  I  want  you  all  to  see  him. 
An  hour  or  two  of  Dan  will  do  you  highbrows 
a  deal  of  good." 

Mrs.  Lamont  wrinkled  her  brows  as  if  per- 
sonally affected  by  the  word.  "Delighted,  my 
dear.  But  won't  he  make  us  more  depressed.'^ 
Jeanne  is  so  angry  with  the  Labour  people, 
and  none  of  us  seem  to  be  in  the  best  of 
spirits." 

"Oh,  Dan  won't  depress  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Lavender.  "He'll  cheer  you  up.  We  need  it 
too,  for  Jimmie  is  no  earthly  use.  He's  so 
happy  here  that  he  talks  no  more  than  a 
graven  image." 

Luncheon  was  a  silent  meal,  and  thereafter, 
when  the  party  sorted  itself  into  groups  for 
the  afternoon  walk,  Christopher  Normand 
chose  a  book  from  the  library  and  settled  him- 
self with  it  in  the  arbour.  He  was  in  a  sad, 
reflective  mood,  and  the  work,  which  was  the 
"Homilies"  of  St.  Gregory  the  Great,  fitted 
his  temper.  He  found  one  sentence  in  it  which 
so  pleased  him  that  he  transcribed  it  into  a 
notebook.  "If  we  yet  love  such  a  world  as 


40         THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

this,  it  is  not  joys  but  wounds  that  we 
love." 

Mr.  Normand  about  tea-time  had  come  to 
the  conclusion,  from  the  examination  of  his 
own  mind,  that  at  the  moment  there  was  a 
deplorable  lack  of  good-humour  in  the  world. 
His  conclusion  was  not  weakened  by  the  re- 
turn of  the  walking  parties.  Lady  Sevenoaks 
by  some  mischance  had  been  paired  with  Mr. 
Wyper,  who  had  treated  her  to  that  peculiar 
form  of  patronage  which  made  him  unpopular 
with  his  own  sex.  His  habit  was  to  lay  down 
some  thesis  and  invite  criticisms,  and  to  re- 
ceive such  criticisms  with  the  smiling  conde- 
scension with  which  a  governess  greets  the 
crude  efforts  of  a  backward  child.  He  had  what 
is  called  a  "mobile"  countenance,  and  his 
eyebrows  and  eyes  were  in  constant  move- 
ment, so  that  Lady  GuidwilHe  had  occasion 
to  observe  to  her  host  that  she  wished  some- 
thing could  be  done  to  make  the  man  de- 
mobilise his  face. 

Mrs.  Lavender,  too,  was  out  of  temper  with 
Mr.  Burford.  He,  alone  of  the  party,  was  in 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         41 

the  best  of  spirits,  but  he  refused  to  communi- 
cate the  secret  of  his  content.  He  had  hunted 
enthusiastically  for  the  eggs  of  the  black- 
headed  gull  when  Mrs.  Lavender  would  fain 
have  had  him  show  his  intellectual  paces  be- 
fore her  friends.  On  the  subject  of  the  sermon 
of  the  morning  he  had  refused  to  be  drawn, 
only  remarking  that  he  Hked  the  look  of  the 
chap,  and  meant  to  have  a  good  yarn  with 
him  some  day  soon. 

At  dinner,  which,  owing  to  the  mildness  of 
the  air,  took  place  out  of  doors  on  the  south 
terrace,  Mr.  Wyper  was  much  disposed  to 
argument. 

"I  had  hoped,'*  he  said,  "to  see  Macmillan 
here  this  evening.  Is  n't  it  the  custom  in 
country  houses  that  the  parson  dines  on  Sun- 
day night.?" 

He  was  informed  by  Colonel  Lamont  that 
Mr.  Macmillan  had  strict  views  on  the  observ- 
ance of  the  Sabbath  and  would  as  soon  think 
of  dining  out  on  that  day  as  of  setting  up  a 
confessional.  *'He's  coming  here  one  night 
soon  if  he  gets  back  in  time  from  the  fishing. 


42  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

You  can't  depend  upon  him  if  the  sea  trout 
are  running  in  Lith  Water.'* 

"He  interests  me  enormously,"  continued 
Mr.  Wyper.  "An  honest  obscurantist!  His 
point  of  view  is,  of  course,  very  much  that  of 
our  late  enemies.  Had  every  one  been  as  hon- 
est as  he,  the  war  would  have  died  away  in  the 
first  month  from  very  shame.  The  school  of 
thought  to  which  I  belong  is  the  extreme  an- 
tithesis of  Germanism,  but  we  opposed  the  war 
because  we  knew  very  well  that  this  country 
did  not  fight  with  clean  hands.  Macmillan, 
you  tell  me,  was  ardently  bellicose  and  served 
in  the  field,  and  now  that  he  has  won  he  is  in 
terror  lest  his  victory  should  be  complete.  He 
realises  that  he  has  been  fighting  against  his 
own  creed.  It  is  all  very  typical  of  our  na- 
tional confusion  of  thought." 

Sir  William  Jacob  shook  his  head.  *'I  see  no 
confusion.  I  think  we  had  some  very  good 
sense  this  morning  —  some  truths  which  to 
me  personally  were  very  disquieting.  The 
parson's  advice  was  to  keep  our  heads  clear, 
and,  because  we  had  to  smash  a  perversion, 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         43 

not  to  be  betrayed  into  a  denial  of  the  truths 
which  had  been  perverted.  That  seems  to  be 
plain  enough." 

"That  is  a  fair  debating  point,  Jacob,"  said 
Mr.  Wyper.  "But  it  has  no  substance.  My 
argument  is  that  these  doctrines  must  from 
their  very  nature  be  hable  to  constant  per- 
version. So  soon  as  you  accept  nationahty 
and  the  historic  state  and  the  large  pohtical 
organism,  you  sHp  insensibly  into  the  vice  of 
Prussianism.  Will  any  one  deny  that  our  Brit- 
ish Imperialists  held  in  reality  the  German 
faith,  and  only  missed  its  enormities  because 
they  were  less  able  and  logical  than  the  Kaiser 
and  his  Marshals.'^" 

All,  including  Sir  William  Jacob,  seemed 
disposed  to  deny  it,  but  their  hostess  antici- 
pated them. 

"We  shall  have  Mr.  Philip  Lenchard  here 
on  Tuesday.  We  had  better  leave  the  British 
Empire  to  be  defended  by  him." 

"I  sincerely  hope  so,"  said  Mrs.  Lavender 
pensively.  "Philip  promised  me  to  let  nothing 
stand  in  the  way.  But  you  know,  my  dear,  he 


44  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

is  in  serious  danger  of  being  made  a  god.  His 
visit  to  India  was  far  too  successful.  He  is 
just  that  mixture  of  Herbert  Spencer  and 
Buddha  that  Orientals  love.  I  hear  that 
there  is  quite  a  powerful  body  already  which 
worships  him  and  burns  Blue-Books  in  his 
honour." 

"I  wish,"  said  Lady  Sevenoaks  —  "I  wish 
that  some  of  our  pohticians  could  be  deified. 
It  would  be  such  a  dignified  way  of  getting  rid 
of  them.  They  won't  be  satisfied  with  ordi- 
nary peerages,  so  we  might  make  them  Divi. 
It  would  be  a  very  complete  way  of  kicking 
them  upstairs,  for  of  course  it  would  be  sacri- 
lege if  they  came  back  to  poHtics.  Mr.  Hepple- 
white,  for  example,  —  I  simply  cannot  tell  you 
the  mess  that  man  made  of  things  in  Paris. 
George  says  they  imported  hundreds  of  clerks, 
and  took  hotels  and  stufiFed  them  with  experts 
on  every  kind  of  irrelevant  question  like  the 
origin  of  the  Kurds  and  the  land  system  of 
Nebuchadnezzar,  and  the  whole  shepherded 
by  nosy  young  men  in  big  spectacles,  which  is 
the  new  Foreign  OflSce  type.  George  says  the 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         45 

French  began  by  giggling  at  us  and  then  grew 
very  cross." 

"It  seems,"  said  Colonel  Lamont  dolefully, 
"that  we  have  won  the  war  and  are  doing  our 
best  to  lose  all  the  fruits  of  it.  Nothing  has 
gone  right  since  that  infernal  Armistice." 

The  tone  was  so  dejected  that  Christopher 
Normand's  sense  of  comedy  was  stirred. 
"Cheer  up,  old  man,"  he  said.  "In  time  we'll 
get  used  to  the  horrors  of  this  Peace  to  end 
peace.  .  .  .  We're  all  getting  too  pessimistic. 
After  all,  none  of  our  troubles  are  new.  Read 
the  memoirs  of  a  hundred  years  ago  and  see 
the  fools  our  people  made  of  themselves  at 
European  congresses  —  hordes  of  smart  wo- 
men and  flimsy  bureaucrats  cumbering  the 
busy  men.  Even  our  Labour  troubles  —  every 
one  of  them  —  have  a  long  ancestry.  I  am 
prone  to  the  dumps  myself,  and  the  best  cure 
is  to  read  a  little  history." 

Mr.  Normand  had  raised  his  voice,  as  his 
habit  was  when  he  was  in  earnest,  and  three 
newcomers  had  approached  the  table  ere  the 
diners  were  aware  of  their  presence.  Two  were 


46  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

tall  young  men;  one  was  small  and  middle- 
aged,  with  a  thin  face,  fiery  red  hair,  and  rest- 
less brown  eyes.  This  last  caught  the  conclud- 
ing words  of  Mr.  Normand,  for  he  signalised 
his  advent  with  loud  approval. 

" 'Ear !  'Ear ! "  he  said.  "That 's  well  spoken. 
What  we  all  want  is  to  learn  a  bit  of  'ist'ry." 

While  they  were  being  welcomed  by  the 
host  and  hostess.  Lady  Sevenoaks  asked  Mrs. 
Lavender  their  names. 

"The  tallest  is  George  Maldwin  —  Stan- 
bury-Maldwin.  A  great  friend  of  mine,  and 
the  best  man  to  hounds  in  Northampton- 
shire." 

"A  Guardsman,  I  suppose,"  said  Lady 
Sevenoaks.  "They  all  have  double  names  and 
places  in  the  Midlands." 

"The  other  boy  is  my  cousin,  Penrose 
MacAndrew.  He  is  just  back  from  keeping 
watch  on  the  Rhine.'* 

"The  third?"  asked  Lady  Sevenoaks.  "I 
have  seen  him  before,  but  where  and  when 
I  can't  remember.  Probably  on  some  plat- 
form." 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         47 

"Not  on  your  George's,  I  bet.  That's  D.  C. 
Jonas.'* 

Lady  Sevenoaks  exclaimed,  "The  Labour 
man !  I  'm  going  home  to-morrow.  Why  in  the 
name  of  goodness  does  Kathie  invite  all  these 
people  here  just  when  we're  tired  and  want 
cheering?" 

"Because,"  said  Mrs.  Lavender,  "they 
seem  to  be  the  only  cheerful  folks  left  alive  in 
this  little  old  world.  I  asked  her  to  get  Dan 
and  Jimmie  here.  You  highbrows  want  a  lot 
of  talking  to.  You  may  call  me  every  kind  of 
fool,  my  dear,  if  they  don't  turn  out  to  be  the 
cheeriest  members  in  this  congregation  of 
undertakers." 


IV 

In  which  two  Leaders  of  the  People  essay  the  sports  of  the 
idle  rich.  Mr.  Jonas  expounds  the  meaning  of  Bolshevism 
and  the  temperament  of  the  British  nation. 

Colonel  Lamont  examined  his  correspond- 
ence at  breakfast  with  a  puzzled  air. 

"We  must  be  getting  very  popular  people,'* 
he  told  his  wife.  "Malone  proposes  to  come 
here  on  Wednesday  for  a  day  or  two  and  to 
bring  with  him  the  French  Army  Commander 
for  whom  I  did  liaison  on  the  Somme.  I  never 
thought  to  entertain  old  Morier  in  this  island. 
I  must  say  I  am  uncommonly  pleased.  Do  you 
know  Mr.  Malone.''"  he  asked  Mrs.  Lavender. 

"  Merry  weather !  Why,  yes.  He  was  a  beau 
of  mine  before  I  met  William  and  married 
beneath  me.  He's  a  bright  boy.  Say,  Penrose, 
what  do  you  think  of  Merryweather  Malone 
coming  here.''" 

The  young  American,  who  had  a  curiously 
solemn  face  and  very  bright,  humorous  eyes. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         49 

ejaculated,  **Fine! "  and  continued  his  break- 
fast. 

*'And,  Martha  dear,"  said  the  hostess, 
**Mr.  Lenchard  arrives  to-morrow,  god  or  no. 
I  suppose  he  will  behave  like  ordinary  people." 

"Indeed  he  won't.  I  can  promise  you  that, 
Kathie.  But  he  eats  the  same  food  as  you  and 
me." 

"Thank  Heaven,  there's  plenty  of  it,"  said 
the  Colonel.  "That  is  the  advantage  of  having 
your  own  land  nowadays.  But  the  cellar  has 
been  shockingly  neglected  for  four  years." 

"You  need  n't  worry  about  that,"  said  Mrs. 
Lavender.  "Merry weather  has  gone  dry  Hke 
the  rest  of  the  U.S.A.  Your  French  General 
won't  want  more  than  a  glass  of  white  wine, 
and  Philip  is  all  for  barley  water.  Pour  your 
cellar  into  the  sea,  Arthur,  and  join  the  ranks 
of  the  bone-dry.  You'll  be  a  happier  and  a 
healthier  man.  And,  you  boys,  quit  the  flow- 
ing bowl,  or  you  '11  get  whipped  at  polo  every 
time." 

"I  am  waiting  to  take  on  America,"  said 
Mr.  Maid  win,  "when  she  has  given  up  alcohol 


60         TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

for  ten  years  and  then  rediscovers  it.  It  will 
be  like  the  South  Sea  Islanders  when  they  had 
measles.  She  will  have  lost  the  power  to  resist 
it." 

"And  that*s  the  youth  of  England!"  the 
lady  exclaimed,  flinging  up  her  hands.  "For 
the  Lord's  sake,  don't  corrupt  little  Penrose. 
I  promised  his  mother  I  would  look  after  his 
morals." 

The  arrival  of  the  young  men  had  worked 
a  change  in  the  party  comparable  to  the  intro- 
duction of  effervescent  salts  into  flat  water. 
It  was  a  clear,  fresh  morning,  and  every  one 
sought  the  open  air.  Mr.  Maldwin,  who  an- 
nounced that  he  had  long  ago  resolved  to 
make  a  pet  of  himself  after  the  war,  arranged 
with  Mr.  Jonas  for  a  trip  in  their  host's  racing 
cutter,  Mr.  Burford,  Penrose  MacAndrew, 
and  Phyllis  proposed  a  day's  fishing  on  the 
Lith,  while  Christopher  Normand  and  Colonel 
Lamont  were  to  try  for  brown  trout  in  the 
Black  Loch. 

"I'll  come  with  you,  George,"  said  Mrs. 
Lavender.  "If  you  drown  Dan  and  there's 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         51 

nobody  else  on  the  scene,  they'll  say  it  was  a 
plot  of  Capital  to  weaken  Labour.** 

"No,  they  won't,"  said  Mr.  Maldwin.  "I 
voted  Labour  at  the  last  election  and  I'm 
going  to  join  the  party  as  soon  as  they  clean 
up  their  stable  and  engage  a  better  class  of 
jock." 

"You'll  come  to  a  bad  end,  dearie.  Your 
kind  of  demagogue  always  gets  knifed  in  the 
flower  of  its  youth." 

Mr.  Maldwin,  as  they  set  off  for  the  shore, 
was  heard  to  remark  that  a  prolonged  sojourn 
in  the  Ypres  Sahent  had  made  him  a  trifle 
blasS  about  murders. 

That  evening  dinner  was  deferred,  for  the 
fishers  were  late,  and  it  was  not  till  the  stroke 
of  nine  that  the  saiHng  party  returned  with 
ravenous  appetites  and  deeply  sunburned 
faces.  The  tremendous  news  was  announced 
that  Mr.  Burford  had  caught  a  salmon  and 
had  landed  it  after  a  long  run  during  which 
he  had  twice  fallen  into  the  river.  Phyllis  re- 
counted the  exploit. 

"  He  stuck  to  it  like  a  Trojan  and  did  every- 


52  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

thing  I  told  him  quite  right,  but  his  reel 
jammed  and  he  had  to  play  the  fish  with  his 
hands.  I  have  just  had  them  bandaged,  Aunt 
Kathie,  and  he's  having  a  bath  and  chang- 
ing." 

The  sportsman  entered  the  room  and  was 
overwhelmed  with  laughing  congratulations. 

*'My  word,"  he  said,  beaming  on  the  com- 
pany, "that  was  fun  all  right.  I  have  n't  en- 
joyed myself  so  much  since  I  was  a  kid.  It 
was  n't  so  much  me  catching  a  salmon  as  the 
salmon  catching  me.  I  would  walk  a  hundred 
miles  to  get  that  thrill  again  when  the  reel 
screams.  Dan,  I  'm  feeling  on  the  side  of  what 
you'd  call  the  idle  rich  to-night." 

"'Ear,  'ear,"  said  Mr.  Jonas.  "I've  been 
'aving  the  time  of  my  life  too." 

"They  nearly  drowned  me,"  said  Mrs. 
Lavender.  "You  never  saw  such  a  pair  of 
mountebanks.  Twice  George  made  the  sheet 
fast  and  left  the  tiller  to  me,  while  he  and  Dan 
sat  and  argued  like  costermongers  in  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat.  It's  a  mercy  my  old  dad 
taught  me  something  about  sailing." 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         53 

*'I  wouldn't  have  left  you  in  charge  if  I 
had  n't  known  all  about  you,"  said  Mr. 
Maldwin  appreciatively. 

"It  has  n't  done  your  complexion  any  good, 
Martha  dear,"  said  Lady  Sevenoaks. 

Presently,  when  the  edge  had  been  taken 
off  healthy  appetites,  Mr.  Jonas  began  to  look 
round  him  and  encountered  the  eyes  of  Lady 
Sevenoaks.  She  had  had  a  dull  day,  for  she 
had  stayed  at  home  to  write  letters  and  had 
been  condemned  to  the  society  of  Mr.  Wyper, 
who  had  remained  behind  for  the  same  pur- 
pose. Mr.  Wyper's  conversation  had  roused 
her  many  poHtical  grievances,  and  she  was 
prepared  to  wreak  her  vengeance  on  Mr.  Jonas. 

"They  tell  me  you  say  that  Liberahsm  is 
dead,"  she  began. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  he  replied  cheerfully. 
"Nothing  of  that  kind  ever  dies.  But  the  old 
Liberal  Party  is  dead,  if  that's  what  you 
mean." 

"You  call  yourself  a  moderate  man,"  said 
the  lady  sadly.  "And  so  I  suppose  do  Chris- 
topher and  Mr.  Burford.  And  yet  you  are 


54  TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

happy  at  the  prospect  of  the  country  being 
left  without  a  middle  party  and  brigaded  into 
two  extremes." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  a  middle  party?" 
Mr.  Normand  asked. 

"A  party  of  mediation,"  was  the  answer. 
"You  have  Labour  on  one  side  making  ex- 
treme demands  and  Capital  on  the  other  in- 
disposed to  yield.  To  mediate  you  must  have 
a  party  which  sees  the  justice  of  both  sides  — 
and  the  blunders.  Otherwise  you  have  a 
struggle  of  the  'haves*  and  'have  nots/  and 
the  victory  of  either  is  ruin  to  the  nation." 

Mr.  Normand  Hfted  his  eyebrows.  "Is  that 
a  fair  description  of  the  Liberal  Party  of  the 
last  twelve  years  .'^" 

"  It  was  what  we  aimed  at,"  said  Sir  William 
Jacob.  "If  we  failed,  it  was  because  we  were 
too  successful." 

"That's  a  true  word,"  said  Mr.  Jonas. 
"  You  failed  because  you  waxed  fat  and  kicked. 
You  were  the  *'aves'  and  you  prided  your- 
selves on  your  cleverness  in  getting,  and  the 
people  who  believed  in  idealism  finally  got 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         55 

sick  of  you.  I've  been  in  Glasgow  and  talking 
to  our  chaps  there,  and  I  asked  them  to  ex- 
plain the  downfall  of  Liberalism  in  Scotland. 
I  took  Scotland  as  a  test  case,  for  you  were  at 
your  strongest  'ere.  This  is  what  they  told  me. 
Scotland,  they  said,  'ad  been  Liberal  ever 
since  the  days  of  John  Knox  and  the  Cove- 
nanters, and  when  there  was  a  chance  of  the 
thing  dying  Gladstone  came  along  and  gave 
it  a  new  lease  of  hfe.  Scotsmen  were  Liberal 
because  they  were  conservative  and  hked  the 
old  ways.  Their  creed  was  traditionaUsm 
touched  with  emotion.  They  liked  old  things, 
and  they  Hked  also  to  think  that  they  were  on 
the  side  of  the  angels.  Why  should  n't  they? 
Well,  the  great  Liberal  Party  became  the 
most  powerful  Government  of  modern  times. 
It  developed  a  most  efficient  caucus  and  made 
a  speciality  of  every  electioneering  dodge. 
You  prided  yourself  on  it,  and  that  was  the 
beginning  of  your  downfall.  Then  came  the 
spectacle  of  your  stalwarts,  who  wanted  the 
land  for  the  people  and  scorned  the  'Ouse  of 
Lords,  scrambling  after  peerages  and  setting 


56  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

up  as  county  magnates  as  soon  as  they  got 
them.  Jock  Willison  was  telHng  me  about  one 
of  them  who  was  all  for  abolishing  squires  and 
lords,  and  the  last  Jock  'card  of  him  was  a 
picture  in  the  papers  showing  him  in  his  peer's 
robes  and  describing  the  welcome  of  the  ten- 
antry when  he  returned  to  his  new  ancestral 
seat.  That  about  finished  the  job,  with  the  'elp 
of  Marconi.  And  now  the  'ard-'eaded  Scot  is 
taking  none  of  your  Liberals.  He  wants  honest 
Tory  or  honest  Labour." 

Lady  Sevenoaks  sighed.  "There's  some 
truth  in  that.  Many  of  our  people  were  the 
vulgarest  of  God's  creatures.  But  they  were 
no  worse,  surely,  than  the  Unionists." 

"Oh,  yes,  they  were,"  said  Mr.  Jonas,  "for 
the  poor  old  Unionists  did  n't  make  any  noble 
professions.  There's  no  special  'arm  in  going 
to  a  casino,  I  take  it.  But  if  you  find  the 
President  of  the  Anti-Gambling  League  punt- 
ing you  get  a  bit  sick." 

"Then  do  I  understand  you  to  say  that  the 
revolt  against  Liberalism  is  a  revolt  against 
middle-class  vulgarity?"  asked  Sir  William. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         57 

"Partly,  and  partly  a  revolt  against  silli- 
ness. Your  party  got  into  the  'abit  of  not 
arguing  fair  and  square,  but  referring  to  'Lib- 
eral principles'  as  if  tliey  were  a  new  Ten 
Commandments.  God  knows  what  they  mean 
by  them,  but  that  'abit  was  the  worst  kind  of 
Toryism.  And  then  you  talked  a  lot  of  slush. 

Take  the  old "  and  Mr.  Jonas  mentioned 

a  well-known  weekly  paper. 

Mr.  Wyper,  who  was  one  of  that  journal's 
most  valued  contributors,  bridled.  "I  deny 
that  utterly.  It  endeavours  to  explore  every 
question  from  the  standpoint  of  eager,  vital 
people  who  are  striving  to  make  a  new  world. 
It  is  the  only  organ  left  of  serious  political 
thought." 

Mr.  Jonas,  whose  face  was  scarlet  from  the 
sea  winds,  was  not  easily  silenced. 

"I  make  no  personal  allusions,  and  I  ask 
everybody's  pardon,  but  I  don't  see  where  the 
eagerness  and  vitality  come  in,  unless  it's 
eager  to  be  as  pettish  as  an  old  maid  and  vital 
to  be  always  on  the  edge  of  tears.  You  won't 
argue  well  if  you're  'aving  'ysterics  all  the 


58         TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

time.  I've  got  tired  of  a  paper  that's  shaken 
in  every  column  by  a  passion  of  sobs." 

"You're  going  too  far,  Dan,"  said  Mr. 
Burford.  "There's  a  heap  of  good  writing  in 
it,  and  you  know  you  read  it  yourself  every 
week." 

*'I  do,  but  I  never  shut  it  up  without  feel- 
ing what  a  funny  little  cellar  it  lives  in.  No, 
Jimmie.  You  're  not  going  to  reform  the  world 
by  being  spiteful  and  tearful.  The  people  of 
this  country  ain't  one  or  the  other." 

"All  that's  beside  the  point,"  said  Lady 
Sevenoaks.  "Of  course  we  had  our  faults  — 
bad  faults.  But  how  is  the  country  to  get  on 
without  us?  You  must  have  a  halfway  house 
where  both  sides  can  meet.  Otherwise  you 
have  two  extremes  which  never  touch.  And 
these  extremes  will  tend  to  grow  more  ex- 
treme in  the  absence  of  a  trait  d'union,  till  you 
have  Bolshevism  on  one  side  and  Junkerdom 
on  the  other." 

Mr.  Jonas  refused  a  glass  of  port,  leaned  his 
elbows  on  the  table,  and  collected  the  eyes  of 
the  company. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         59 

"We'd  better  'ave  this  out,"  he  said.  "Lady 
Sevenoaks,  you  're  what  the  Americans  call  a 
*  stand-patter,'  begging  your  pardon.  You  still 
think  of  the  nation  as  split  up  into  classes  each 
utterly  different  in  temperament  and  outlook. 
That's  where  you're  wrong.  You  Liberals  are 
the  worst  reactionaries.  You  'ave  n't  any  no- 
tion of  the  ordinary  man.  Nothing  like  as 
much  as  the  Tory.  Why,  in  my  old  part  of  the 
world  people  used  to  'sir'  the  Liberal  member 
and  touch  their  'ats  to  him,  while  everybody 
called  the  Tory  candidate  by  his  Christian 
name.  There  ain't  much  in  that,  but  it's  a 
parable  of  the  way  you  have  got  into  the  'abit 
of  cast-iron  class  notions.  This  war  has  shown 
that  all  classes  are  much  the  same  at  bottom. 
Ask  the  soldiers.  They  've  learned  more  about 
the  British  people  in  the  trenches  than  you'd 
learn  in  politics  in  a  hundred  years." 

Mr.  Maid  win  signified  his  assent.  "That's 
true  of  the  two  things  I  know  anything  about 
—  sport  and  fighting.  I  always  guessed  it,  but 
I  learned  it  pretty  thoroughly  in  France. 
That's  why  I'm  for  the  ordinary  man,  who's 


60  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

the  chap  that  won  the  war.  I  'd  be  for  the  La- 
bour Party  to-morrow  if  it  would  buck  up 
and  reform  its  stable.  It  ain't  the  horses  that's 
to  blame;  it's  the  poor  stamp  of  jock." 

"WTiat  I  say,"  continued  Mr.  Jonas,  "is 
that  so  long  as  we  go  on  talking  about  classes 
as  if  they  were  things  established  by  'Eaven 
since  the  creation  of  the  world,  we  are  asking 
for  trouble.  You'll  never  get  to  understand 
about  folks  in  a  different  walk  of  life  from  you 
if  you  think  of  them  as  somehow  different  by 
nature.  Things  are  easier  in  America,  because 
they  tell  me  that  classes  are  fluid  there  and 
their  boundaries  are  always  shifting.  That's 
so,  Mrs.  Lavender.'*" 

"True,"  said  the  lady.  "William  was  raised 
in  a  shack  in  Idaho,  and  if  the  present  rate  of 
taxation  goes  on,  my  boys  will  be  getting  back 
to  that  shack." 

"I'm  not  speaking  about  classes,"  said 
Lady  Sevenoaks.  "I  am  speaking  about 
creeds.  Do  you  mean  to  deny  that  Bolshevism 
is  rampant  in  British  Labour  to-day.'*" 

"Of  course  I  do.  It's  a  bad  'abit  to  call  a 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         61 

thing  names  when  you  don't  understand  it. 
Of  course  the  workers  are  restless,  same  as 
everybody  else;  and  since  they  'ave  won  the 
war  they  want  a  square  deal  with  the  fruits  of 
peace.  But  they  ain't  Bolsheviks  —  barring  a 
few  dozen  miscreants  who  should  be  in  gaol. 
What's  Bolshevism  anyhow .f*  Judging  by  the 
Russian  specimens,  apart  from  their  liking  for 
'olesale  'omicide,  it  seems  to  mean  a  general 
desire  to  pull  things  up  by  the  roots.  Well, 
that  ain't  the  line  of  the  British  working-man. 
He  is  the  soundest  conservative  on  the  globe, 
and  what  he  wants  is  to  get  his  roots  down 
deeper.  In  other  countries  the  poor  man  has 
a  grip  on  the  soil.  In  this  country  he  'as  n't  'ad 
that  for  two  hundred  years.  We  are  over- 
industrialised,  as  the  saying  is;  but  a  root's 
got  to  be  found  somewhere,  and  he  finds  it  in 
his  Unions.  That's  why  he's  so  jealous  about 
them,  and  quite  right  too.  He  wants  to  find 
security  and  continuity  somewhere.  Now 
that's  the  opposite  of  Bolshevism.  The  true 
Bolsheviks  are  the  intellectuals  that  want  to 
make  him  only  a  bit  of  scientific  terminology. 


62  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

as  Jock  Willison  says,  and  the  plutocrats  that 
want  to  make  him  a  cog  in  a  cold-'earted  ma- 
chine. They  're  the  folk  that  are  trying  to  up- 
turn the  foundations  of  things.** 

"I  should  define  Bolshevism  differently," 
said  Sir  William.  *'Its  chief  motive  seems  to 
be  the  establishment  of  the  tyranny  of  a  class. 
It*s  the  same  thing  as  Prussianism,  only  its 
class  is  the  proletariat.'* 

"I'm  dead-sick  of  that  word  'proletariat,*** 
said  Mr.  Jonas.  "It's  part  of  the  bastard  sci- 
entific jargon  that 's  come  over  from  Germany. 
I  would  n't  call  my  dog  such  a  'ard  name.  But 
you're  right,  Sir  Wilham.  Only  what  I'm 
arguing  is  that  Bolshevism  is  a  very  old  thing, 
and  that  there  is  n't  much  of  it  in  the  British 
working-classes.  I'll  tell  you  who  were  'earty 
Bolsheviks  in  their  day.  The  Manchester 
School  and  the  Utilitarians.  They  wanted  to 
run  the  world  mainly  for  the  benefit  of  one 
class,  and  they  considered  only  material  ends. 
It's  true  they  did  n't  dabble  in  crime,  but  that 
was  because  they  were  rich,  frock-coated 
gents  and  did  n't  need  to." 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         63 

Sir  William  Jacob  was  far  from  pleased  at 
Mr.  Jonas's  assent  to  his  definition,  followed 
as  it  was  by  this  unexpected  illustration. 
"You  misread  the  Manchester  School  very 
gravely,  Mr.  Jonas,"  he  said. 

"Why?"  asked  Mr.  Jonas.  "They  objected 
to  all  war,  except  their  own  kind.  So  does 
Lenin.  They  asked  about  everything  only 
what  cash  value  it  produced.  So  did  Marx  and 
his  lot.  They  chose  a  fraction  of  the  State  and 
said  everything  must  serve  its  interests,  seeing 
that  it  was  the  People  and  wisdom  would  die 
with  it.  So  does  Trotsky.  What  more  do  you 
want.?" 

"The  great  Cobden  — "  began  Sir  Wilham, 
but  he  was  interrupted. 

"Cobden!"  cried  Mr.  Jonas,  with  some- 
thing approaching  passion.  "Cobden  was  the 
biggest  Bolshevik  there's  ever  been.  I  reckon 
'im  the  'orridest  character  in  all  'ist'ry.  I  was 
reading  a  bit  about  'im  the  other  day,  a  letter 
he  wrote  during  the  Crimean  War,  where  he 
fairly  gloats  because  what  he  calls  the  gov- 
erning class  was  losing  sons  at  Balaclava.  He 


64  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

'ad  n't  the  stuff  in  'im  to  love  his  country,  but 
he  could  'ate  all  right.  I  '11  give  you  a  defini- 
tion of  Bolshevism,  Sir  William.  It's  the  creed 
that 's  based  on  'ate.  And  if  you  think  that 's 
common  among  the  British  people,  you  greatly 
misjudge  your  countrymen." 

Mr.  Jonas,  as  if  conscious  that  he  had  been 
too  fervent,  sat  back  in  his  chair  and  spoke 
in  a  quieter  voice,  that  soothing  voice  which 
aforetime  had  calmed  great  gatherings  at 
great  crises. 

"We  are  going  through  a  diflScult  time,  I 
don't  deny.  But  it  will  come  all  right  if  we 
remember  two  tilings.  The  first  is  never  to  'ate, 
for  it's  un-English  and  un-Christian,  and  don't 
pay.  The  other  is  to  remember  'ist'ry  and  to 
realise  that  none  of  our  troubles  are  new.  Our 
grandfathers  'ad  them,  but  they  faced  up  to 
them  like  men,  and  did  n't  confuse  their  'eads 
with  bad  science. 

"It's  hke,"  he  continued,  "a  time  of  thaw. 
The  bitter  binding  winter  of  war  is  over.  War 
was  a  cruel  thing,  and  nipped  young  life  and 
killed  the  weaklings  and  put  a  stop  to  growth. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         65 

But  its  frosts  were  exhilarating  too,  and  keyed 
us  all  up.  Now  we're  in  the  thaw,  with  muddy 
roads  and  dripping  skies,  and  our  tempers  are 
getting  short.  It's  a  'ard  time,  for  there's 
neither  the  tonic  of  winter  nor  the  comfort  of 
summer,  but  only  grey  weather  over  a  grey 
world.  But  you  can't  'ave  spring  without  it. 
That's  what  we  'ave  to  remember.  And  the 
time  is  coming  when  the  sun  will  shine  again 
and  we  will  walk  in  green  fields." 

A  strange  gentleness  and  beauty  had  come 
into  the  speaker's  rugged  face.  Suddenly  he 
began  to  laugh. 

"Dearie  me,"  he  said,  "I'm  getting  elo- 
quent. 'Ow's  that  for  a  peroration?  It  only 
wants  a  reference  to  the  sunrise  and  the  'ills  of 
Wales  to  be  up  to  one  of  the  P.M.'s  efforts." 


A  wet  day.  The  ladies  proffer  their  cure*  for  the  present 
discontents.  Mr.  Normand  discourses  on  Liberty.  An 
Apostle  of  Empire  arrives. 

Breakfast  next  morning  was  made  remark- 
able by  the  cheerfulness  of  Mrs.  Lament. 
Usually  of  a  shy  and  timid  habit,  as  of  a  dove 
in  a  world  of  eagles,  she  now  blossomed  into  a 
sober  merriment.  She  rallied  Mr.  Burford  on 
his  damaged  hands,  and  Mr.  Jonas  on  his 
garb,  for  that  gentleman,  resolved  to  emulate 
his  friend's  fishing  exploits  on  the  Lith,  had 
borrowed  a  pair  of  Colonel  Lamont's  trench 
boots  and  a  shooting-coat  which  hung  loose 
on  his  shoulders. 

"Your  ruthless  optimism  last  night  has 
gone  to  Kathie's  head,"  Lady  Sevenoaks  told 
the  latter. 

"Yes,"  said  the  hostess,  "I  was  so  cheered 
with  what  you  told  me.  I  know  so  Httle  of  the 
working-classes,  apart  from  our  own  people 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         67 

here,  and  the  papers  are  full  of  such  disquiet- 
ing stories." 

Mr.  Jonas,  who  was  standing  up  eating  por- 
ridge in  imitation  of  his  host,  and  making 
rather  a  messy  job  of  it,  set  down  his  plate 
and  announced  that  breakfast  was  not  the 
time  to  talk  politics,  but  that  he  was  bound 
to  issue  a  warning. 

**Our  people  are  sound  at  *eart,**  he  said, 
"but  the  situation  is  disquieting  right  enough. 
They're  asking  for  big  changes  in  their  life 
and  work,  and  they  mean  to  'ave  them. 
There's  plenty  of  folk  in  the  country  who 
won't  be  got  to  understand  what  the  workers 
want,  and  plenty  who  understand  and  won't 
agree  to  it.  That  means  a  fight,  and  whether 
it's  a  decent  fight  or  a  bitter,  long  battle  de- 
pends just  upon  the  amount  of  good  temper 
and  good  sense  both  sides  put  into  it.  I  'ave  n't 
any  doubt  which  side  will  win,  but  I  want  it 
to  be  a  fair  win,  leaving  no  bad  blood  behind 
it.  The  mischief  is  that  unless  the  masters 
show  a  good  spirit,  they'll  get  up  the  backs  of 
the  men,  and  the  men  will  make  demands  that 


68  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

'ave  n't  justice  in  them.  That's  always  apt  to 
'appen.  So  a  lot  depends  on  you,  my  friends. 
The  People  are  n't  very  clever  and  they  're 
pretty  slow,  but  when  they  make  up  their 
mind  and  get  earnest  they  're  always  right.  It 
is  n't  going  to  be  pleasant  for  everybody  to 
admit  this,  and  no  amount  of  nice  phrases  will 
get  over  the  unpleasantness." 

Mrs.  Lamont's  face  fell,  but  Mr.  Jonas  was 
relentless. 

"Then  there's  the  trouble  abroad  and  all 
the  mess  of  wickedness  that  the  'Un  has  cre- 
ated. There's  plenty  of  Bolshevism  about  in 
Europe  —  real  Bolshevism  —  and  we've  got 
to  get  the  thing  straight,  for  a  country  can't 
live  to  itself  alone  any  more  than  a  'uman  be- 
ing. We're  all  members  one  of  another.  "SYe 
won't  get  peace  at  'ome  till  we  get  peace 
abroad.  Why,  every  little  industrial  dispute 
in  England  is  in  the  long  run  a  world  problem." 

"I  should  like  to  hear  you  develop  that,'* 
said  Mr.  Normand. 

But  Mr.  Jonas  refused.  "No,"  he  said, 
"I'm  going  fishing.   This  isn't  the  'appy 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         69 

breakfast  table  of  No.  10  Downing  Street.  I'll 
tell  you  all  about  it  to-night,  if  Jimmie  does  n't 
drown  me." 

The  day  passed  somewhat  slowly  for  the 
ladies.  The  only  man  left  behind  was  Chris- 
topher Normand,  who  was  busy  in  the  Ubrary, 
for  even  Mr.  Wyper  had  departed  for  the 
Black  Loch,  where  he  proposed,  not  to  fish 
like  the  others,  but  to  ascend  an  adjacent 
mountain.  In  the  late  afternoon  a  slight  drizzle 
began,  and  tlie  party  assembled  for  tea  in 
the  hall,  where  a  fire  of  logs  burned  with  the 
ferocity  which  characterises  fires  in  summer 
lit  rather  for  cheerfulness  than  for  warmth. 
The  group  presented  a  comfortable  spectacle 
to  Mr.  Normand  as  he  returned  from  a  con- 
stitutional in  the  rain. 

*'We  were  discussing  what  Mr.  Jonas  said 
at  breakfast,"  Mrs.  Lamont  informed  him. 
"What  do  you  think  the  workers  really  want, 
Christopher.'*" 

"A  little  kindness  and  putting  their  hair  in 
curl-papers,"  was  the  reply. 

"I  wish  you'd  be  serious,"  said  the  lady. 


70         THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

who  did  not  recognise  the  quotation.  **I 
can't  help  feeling  that  they  only  want  sym- 
pathy." 

"Just  what  I  said,"  replied  Mr.  Normand. 

"I  mean,"  said  Mrs.  Lamont,  her  kind  eyes 
looking  into  vacancy  —  *'I  mean  they  want 
a  more  human  relationship  than  that  between 
the  employers  of  a  company  and  a  board  of 
directors  whose  names  they  don't  know.  My 
father  used  always  to  say  that  joint-stock 
companies  would  be  the  ruin  of  our  working- 
classes.  I  think  no  one  should  be  allowed  to 
be  an  employer  of  labour  who  does  not  know 
personally  every  one  of  his  men." 

"And  has  a  nice  wife  who  takes  them  soup 
when  they  are  ill,"  said  Mr.  Normand. 

"That  would  be  a  good  thing  too,"  said 
Mrs.  Lamont  innocently. 

"Nonsense,  Kathie,"  said  Lady  Sevenoaks. 
"You're  always  harking  back  to  the  Lady 
Bountiful  business.  The  working-classes  only 
want  what  we  all  want  —  more  money  and 
more  leisure.  I  am  all  for  high  wages  and  a 
short  working- week,  and  the  country  can  well 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         71 

afford  them  if  it  does  not  cripple  itself  with 
idiotic  schemes  of  Tariff  Reform." 

"I  think  you  are  too  material,"  said  the 
intense  voice  of  Mrs.  Aspenden.  "I  cannot 
believe  that  a  war  which  has  been  won  by  the 
spirit  should  lead  only  to  an  increase  of  loaves 
and  fishes.  What  we  need  is  more  religion  — 
true  religion." 

"I  agree,"  said  Mr.  Normand  gravely. 

"How  can  we  expect  the  poor  to  be  happy," 
said  the  lady,  "when  our  churches  are  so  ugly 
and  our  services  so  few  and  uninspiring  .f*  As 
dear  Father  Mabbett  used  to  say,  if  we  want 
to  restore  Merrie  England,  we  must  have 
priests  serving  all  day  before  our  altars,  and 
the  poor  regarding  the  Church  as  their  true 
home,  and  the  bells  of  every  town  and  village 
in  the  land  ringing  to  welcome  in  the  days  of 
the  Blessed  Saints." 

"You  think  you  could  rally  Labour  on  that 
cry?"  asked  Mr.  Normand. 

"I  am  sure  of  it,"  said  the  lady. 

"Like  Sir  Vavasour  Firebrace  and  the  bitter 
wrongs  of  the  baronetage." 


72  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

But  his  gibe  missed  fire,  for  Mrs.  Aspenden 
was  not  a  student  of  Disraeli.  *' You  have  no 
idea  what  good  work  the  Toil  and  Spirit 
movement  is  doing,"  she  continued.  "Faith 
Brantwing  told  me  that  she  had  a  shop- 
steward  to  tea  and  he  stayed  till  midnight  and 
poured  out  his  heart  to  her.  People  like  her 
can  lift  the  workers  out  of  their  materialism." 

At  the  last  word  Mr.  Normand,  who  re- 
membered the  toilettes  of  the  lady  in  ques- 
tion, could  not  repress  a  smile. 

"What  do  you  say.  Pen,  dear.?"  Mrs. 
Lamont  asked  her  niece. 

Lady  Penelope  Wyper,  who  habitually 
wore  clothes  more  suited  for  a  Three  Arts  Ball 
than  the  Hebrides,  was  busy  fitting  a  tiny 
cigarette  into  an  elaborate  holder. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "I  live  only 
for  the  beautiful  in  life  and  I  'm  not  interested 
in  economics.  I  don't  think  anybody  is,  except 
the  people  who  make  their  living  by  teaching 
them.  I  agree  with  Ursula  that  the  change 
must  be  in  the  spirit,  but  a  few  thousand  extra 
High  Church  parsons  won't  work  the  change. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         73 

I  think  the  people  are  craving  for  colour  and 
form.  Now,  if  Augustus  John  — " 

But,  unnoticed  by  the  speakers,  the  party 
irom  the  Lith  had  returned,  and  PhyUis  and 
the  two  fishermen  were  standing  between  a 
Coromandel  screen  and  the  passage  to  the 
drawing-room.  They  had  been  listening  to  the 
last  part  of  the  conversation,  and  Mr.  Nor- 
mand  was  a  delighted  witness  of  the  slow 
amazement  which  overspread  their  faces. 
Phyllis,  who  could  not  see  it  direct,  caught  the 
reflection  of  it  in  Christopher's  eyes  and  broke 
into  merry  laughter. 

"  Have  you  got  a  fish  ?  "  Mr.  Normand  asked. 

"I  'ave,"  said  Mr.  Jonas.  "And  I've  put 
Jimmie's  nose  out  of  joint.  Mine's  a  pound 
and  a  'alf  'eavier  than  'is." 

*'You  must  be  dreadfully  wet,  you  poor 
people,"  said  Mrs.  Lamont.  "Hadn't  you 
better  change  before  you  have  tea,  or  shall  I 
have  it  sent  up  to  you.''" 

They  disappeared,  protesting  that  they 
would  be  down  in  ten  minutes,  and  in  the 
interval  conversation  languished.  It  was  im- 


74  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

possible  to  induce  Lady  Penelope  to  expound 
her  views  further. 

"But  you  must  contribute  something, 
Christopher,"  Mrs.  Lamont  told  him.  "We 
are  trying  to  be  public-spirited  and  helpful, 
and  you  only  jeer." 

"Well,  if  you  want  to  know  my  views,  I 
think  the  workers  of  this  country  at  the  mo- 
ment want  liberty  above  all  things." 

"But  surely  they've  got  it." 

"Not  quite  the  right  sort.  Kathie,  your 
grandfather  was  one  of  the  1832  Whigs." 

"He  was,  the  more  shame  to  him,"  said 
Lady  Guidwillie. 

"Why  shame?"  Mrs.  Lamont  asked.  "He 
was  a  very  good  man,  Margaret." 

"He  was,"  said  Mr.  Normand,  "and  he 
fought  in  what  was  on  the  whole  a  very  good 
cause.  He  wanted  the  people  to  have  political 
liberty.  Well,  industrial  p)olitics  are  the  vital 
pohtics  of  the  workers.  They  want  the  same 
kind  of  liberty  there  that  your  grandfather 
helped  to  win  for  them  in  the  constitutional 
field." 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         75 

"Rubbish,  Christopher,**  said  Lady  Guid- 
willie.  "They  have  ample  Hberty.  They  can 
carry  their  labour  to  any  market,  and  drive  a 
hard  bargain  for  the  price  of  it.  What  more 
do  you  want?" 

"Price  is  n't  everything.  They  want  to 
have  a  say  in  running  the  world  by  which  they 
live.  I  beHeve  that  if  they  had  it  they  would 
be  better  workmen  and  that  every  industry 
would  yield  a  bigger  profit.  Production  is  what 
we  need,  more  and  more  production,  for  the 
war  has  starved  the  worid  of  everything;  and 
this  is  a  way  to  it.'* 

"I  don't  in  the  least  know  what  you  mean,'* 
said  Lady  Guidwillie.  "Do  you  want  to  na- 
tionalise everything?  That,  no  doubt,  would 
give  the  work-people  some  say  in  the  man- 
agement of  business,  for  the  whole  nation 
would  be  the  employer." 

"I  beheve  that  in  one  or  two  cases  nation- 
alisation would  be  right,"  Mr.  Normand  re- 
pHed.  "But  I  don't  want  to  see  it  carried  too 
far,  for  the  State  should  stand  a  Uttle  outside 
the  industrial  worid  and  be  able  to  interfere 


76  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

with  some  prestige  when  things  get  at  logger- 
heads. If  it  were  the  universal  employer  it 
would  have  no  independent  status." 

"Then  what  do  you  want?  You  surely 
would  n't  argue  that  a  committee  of  ignorant 
workmen  was  as  capable  of  running  a  business 
profitably  as  the  highly  trained  employer. 
They  've  tried  it  in  Russia  and  made  a  pretty 
mess  of  it.  You  would  only  decrease  produc- 
tion, and  that  would  put  up  the  cost  of  living 
and  lower  wages.  Really,  Christopher,  you're 
very  illogical." 

Mr.  Normand  laughed,  and  put  a  question. 
"You  would  admit  that  a  despot,  if  he  were 
really  able  and  benevolent,  would  run  a  coun- 
try better  than  a  democracy.'^" 

"Certainly." 

"But  the  world  has  decided  against  the 
despot,  partly  because  you  can't  count  either 
on  his  ability  or  his  benevolence,  and  partly 
because  men  like  to  be  free  and  would  rather 
have  an  imperfect  government  for  which  they 
are  responsible  than  a  perfect  government  for 
which  they  are  not.  You  agree.''" 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         77 

Lady  Guidwillie  nodded  doubtfully.  Being 
very  shrewd,  she  saw  where  she  was  being  led. 

"Well,  there's  the  same  feeling  about  the 
present  system  in  industry.  Men  want  to  have 
a  say  in  what  concerns  them  more  nearly  than 
the  government  of  the  State,  and  that  is  the 
management  of  the  work  by  which  they  live. 
They  don't  believe  in  the  divine  right  and  in- 
fallibility of  employers  any  more  than  in  the 
divine  right  of  kings  and  the  infallibiHty  of 
the  Pope.  K  you  reply  that  they  must  trust 
the  expert,  they  are  incredulous  and  declare 
that  that  is  pure  Prussianism.  You  see,  the 
average  man  in  Britain  has  learned  very 
completely  the  lesson  of  the  war." 

Mr.  Maldwin  and  Sir  William  Jacob  had 
returned  from  a  long  tramp  and  were  Hstening 
with  interest  to  the  discussion. 

"I  don't  believe  in  the  unvarying  compe- 
tence of  employers,"  said  the  latter.  "I  have 
cross-examined  too  many  and  found  out  how 
Httle  they  knew  of  their  own  business.  To  that 
extent  I  sympathise  with  the  workers,  and  as 
a  Liberal  I  am  in  favour  of  carrying  the  prin- 


78  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

ciple  of  self-government  into  all  things.  But 
surely,  Normand,  you  are  perilously  near  the 
ground  of  the  Syndicalist  and  the  Guild  So- 
cialist. I  thought  Tory  Democrats  believed 
in  the  historic  continuity  of  things.  You  are 
prepared  to  scrap  a  machine  which  on  the 
whole  works,  and  put  in  its  place  an  empirical 
toy." 

"I  wish,"  said  Mr.  Normand  —  "I  wish 
that  people  would  stop  calling  me  a  Tory 
Democrat.  I  don't  know  what  the  silly  phrase 
means.  I'm  a  Tory  or  a  Democrat.  I  should 
prefer  to  be  a  Tory  if  the  world  were  what  it 
was  long  ago.  No,  I  am  not  sentimental  about 
the  past,  but  I  don't  believe  greatly  in  the 
merits  of  what  we  call  progress,  and  I  should 
have  preferred  a  simpler  and  poorer  and  hap- 
pier England.  But  I'm  not  blind,  and  Tory- 
ism, except  for  a  few  eternal  principles,  be- 
longs only  to  history.  As  it  is,  I  'm  a  Democrat 
sans  phrase,  and  I  maintain  that  it 's  a  natural 
transition  from  honest  Toryism." 

Sir  William  apologised.  "But  what  about 
your  Syndicalism.''"  he  asked. 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         79 

"Syndicalism  is  simply  a  proof  of  the  wide- 
spread instinct  I've  been  talking  about.  You 
will  always  find  people  to  fit  an  abstract  abso- 
lutist creed  to  any  instinct.  Syndicalism  goes 
too  far,  and  would  enthrone  one  human  rela- 
tion at  the  expense  of  all  the  rest.  Guild  Social- 
ism is  uncommonly  interesting,  but  I  believe 
that  it  is  too  exotic  to  work  well  in  the  world 
as  we  know  it  to-day.  But  both  are  exaggera- 
tions of  what  I  believe  to  be  sound  doctrine. 
I  have  never  been  much  of  an  enthusiast  about 
the  blessings  of  self-government,  but  if  it's 
good  for  the  things  that  matter  less  it  is  better 
for  the  things  that  matter  more.'* 

Lady  Guidwillie  was  not  convinced. 

"I  have  always  been  told  that  an  army 
would  be  beaten  if  it  were  commanded  by  a 
debating  society,  and  I  don't  see  how  that 
does  n't  apply  to  business.  Expert  knowledge 
is  expert  knowledge,  and  the  workman  who 
tends  a  single  machine  will  make  a  mess  of  it 
if  he  interferes  with  the  organisation  in  which 
his  machine  is  only  a  part.  Is  n't  there  a  pas- 
sage in  the  Apocrypha  about  the  man  whose 


80  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

talk  is  of  bullocks  sticking  to  them  and  not 
trying  to  sit  in  the  councils  of  the  State?" 

"That  text  is  on  my  side,"  said  Christopher 
Normand.  "We  are  dealing  with  the  manage- 
ment of  bullocks,  not  with  things  like  foreign 
policy.  Besides,  the  rank  and  file  will  obey 
the  real  expert  better  if  he  is  the  man  of  their 
own  approval.  Give  the  ordinary  man  a  fair 
chance  and  he'll  pick  good  leaders  and  be 
loyal  to  them." 

Mr.  Maldwin,  who  had  been  listening  in- 
tently, took  up  the  parable. 

"I  believe  all  your  life  you've  practised 
what  Normand 's  saying,"  he  told  Lady  Guid- 
willie.  "I've  been  pretty  often  to  stay  at 
Waucht,  and  I  must  say  the  sport  was  better 
run  there  than  anywhere  I  know.  But  did  you 
ever  dare  to  interfere  with  Donald  Matheson? 
He  used  to  run  the  stalking  like  a  tyrant,  and 
run  it  jolly  well  too.  Wliy,  I've  heard  him  give 
Guidwillie  a  proper  keel-hauling  for  some 
mistake,  and  Guidwillie  always  admitted  he 
was  right.  And  the  same  with  Anderson,  the 
river  keeper.  Do  you  think  you  would  have 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         81 

got  as  good  work  out  of  these  fellows  if  you 
had  been  always  supervising  them  and  telling 
them  what  to  do,  instead  of  letting  their  show 
be  their  own  concern  and  making  them  feel 
proud  of  it?" 

Mr.  Burford  and  Mr.  Jonas,  dry  and  re- 
clothed,  had  entered  the  hall  and  were  busy 
making  up  arrears.  It  was  for  them  a  solemn 
duty,  for  both  were  in  the  habit  of  declaring 
that  they  would  rather  give  up  every  other 
meal  than  tea.  Muffins  sealed  Mr.  Burford's 
mouth  as  dust  dimmed  the  eyes  of  Helen,  but 
Mr.  Jonas  had  still  a  voice. 

"I  'ad  the  privilege  of  'earing  a  little  time 
ago  some  very  interesting  views  from  the 
ladies  as  to  what  the  workers  really  want." 

The  ladies  in  question  looked  guiltily  at 
each  other. 

"Very  interesting  and  enlightening  they 
were.  And  now  I've  'card  some  very  good 
sense  from  our  friends  Mr.  Normand  and 
Mr.  Maldwin  'ere.  But  I've  got  to  protest 
again  about  the  'abit  of  thinking  of  the  work- 
ers as  if  they  were  an  unfeatured  class,  like  a 


82  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

field  of  corn.  We'll  get  on  better  if  we  think  of 
Jack  and  Bill  and  Tom  as  individuals.  Our 
job  is  to  restore  the  ordinary  man's  individual- 
ity, which  'as  been  submerged.  Everything 
comes  back  to  that,  and  if  you  think  of  the 
question  in  that  way  you  '11  find  it  easier  going. 
Bill  Thomas,  let's  say,  wants  better  wages 
and  more  leisure  and  more  interest  and  re- 
sponsibility in  his  job.  And  we  all  want  to  see 
Bill  a  better  citizen,  with  some  notion  of  'ow 
it  takes  all  kinds  to  make  a  nation,  and  'ow  'is 
own  interests  'as  to  be  squared  with  other 
people's.  Well,  that  means  that  Bill's  got  to 
be  better  educated.  Go  for  Bill,  and  never 
mind  'is  class  that  you  call  the  'workers,'  for 
if  you  think  of  an  abstract  thing  like  a  class, 
you'll  never  get  to  grips  with  the  problem. 
I'm  speaking  to  my  own  address  as  well  as 
to  yours,  for  God  knows  I've  talked  a  bit  of 
nonsense  in  my  day." 

Lady  Guidwillie  approved.  "'Workers'  is 
a  horrid,  question-begging  word,"  she  said, 
*'like  'Democracy'  and  'the  People.'  But  all 
this  talk  seems  to  me  most  disquieting.  You 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         83 

want  a  millennium,  but  unless  you  get  it  uni- 
versally it  will  be  a  pandemonium.  Industry 
and  commerce  are  world-wide  things,  and 
while  we  are  busy  giving  Bill  Thomas  a  good 
time,  his  slender  output  will  be  swamped  by 
the  products  of  less  fortunate  countries,  and 
the  latter  end  of  Bill  will  be  starvation." 

Mr.  Normand  looked  up  sharply. 

"  YouVe  put  your  finger  on  the  crux  of  the 
whole  business.  I'm  not  afraid  of  giving  our 
people  more  self-government  in  industry,  for 
that  is  a  subject  in  which  they  are  deeply  con- 
cerned and  in  his  own  way  every  one  of  them 
is  an  expert.  But  Democracy  is  apt  to  be  terri- 
bly self-centred  in  its  interests.  It  suffers  from 
a  short-range  imagination  geographically. 
The  purer  a  Democracy  we  become,  the  less 
are  we  fitted  to  handle  world  problems  intelli- 
gently, and  these  world  problems  are  just  as 
vital  to  our  well-being  in  the  end  as  any  do- 
mestic question.  I  agree  with  what  you  said 
at  breakfast,  Jonas.  Every  little  industrial 
dispute  we  have  is  in  the  long  run  a  matter  for 
the  whole  world." 


84  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

Mr.  Jonas  was  about  to  reply,  when  he  was 
interrupted  by  the  dressing-bell.  At  the  same 
moment  there  came  a  sound  of  wheels  from 
without,  and  Mrs.  Lamont  rose  in  some  ex- 
citement. "That  must  be  Mr.  Lenchard. 
Martha  went  to  meet  him." 

"Favete  Unguis  J'  whispered  Mr.  Normand 
to  Lady  Sevenoaks.  "When  half -gods  go,  the 
gods  arrive." 

Dinner  was  a  pleasant  meal  which  passed 
swiftly,  for  the  new  guest,  who  had  travelled 
straight  from  London,  brought  news  of  the 
outer  world  which  was  greedily  received  by 
people  dependent  upon  irregular  Scottish 
papers  and  a  belated  Times.  He  had  just  been 
in  Paris,  and  gave  an  amusing  account  of  the 
jumble  of  nationalities  at  work  in  that  per- 
plexed city.  Mr.  Lenchard  was  one  of  those 
figures  who  in  every  generation  intrigue  their 
contemporaries.  Most  people  knew  him  only 
as  a  name,  for,  like  the  god  Baal,  he  was  often 
on  a  journey.  Still  in  early  middle  life,  he  had 
a  singular  air  of  youth,  but  of  monastic  youth. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         85 

His  hair,  though  plentiful,  somehow  suggested 
a  tonsure;  and  whatever  garment  he  assumed 
had  the  appearance  of  a  monk's  robe.  His 
searching  black  eyes  were  preternaturally 
solemn,  but  his  face  now  and  then  broke  up 
into  a  slow  smile.  Perhaps  it  was  his  voice 
that  suggested  the  Church;  it  seemed  made 
to  intone  chants  and  offices.  As  the  founder  of 
that  admirable  quarterly,  The  Square  DeaU 
he  had  some  claim  to  be  a  shaper  of  political 
opinion,  and  he  had  gathered  round  him  a 
group  of  men  who  in  their  several  spheres  had 
done  distinguished  work  for  their  country. 
His  critics  declared  that  he  was  Prussian  in 
his  complete  humourlessness  and  his  inhuman 
persistence;  his  friends  found  in  him  both 
humour  and  modesty.  Under  his  coercion  the 
British  Empire  had  altered  much  of  its  con- 
stitutional practice  and  wholly  revised  its 
constitutional  theory  —  no  small  achieve- 
ment for  a  single  patriot. 

The  party  assembled  after  dinner  round 
the  hall  fire,  for  the  coming  of  rain  had  brought 
a  shght  chill  into  the  air.   Lady  Sevenoaks 


86  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

was  eager  to  make  Mr.  Lenehard  talk,  for  she 
wickedly  anticipated  a  row  with  Mr.  Wyper. 

"How  is  the  Empire  going  to  come  out  of 
all  this?"  she  asked.  **We  have  to  be  very 
chary  in  using  the  name  now.  What  is  the  nev/ 
phrase?  The  British  Commonwealth?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Lenehard.  "That  is  a  safer 
word  and  a  more  exact  description.  I  like 
*  Empire'  myself,  but  the  Germans  have 
given  it  an  ugly  sound.  ...  I  think  things  are 
going  very  well.  The  British  peoples  sat  round 
the  Conference  Table  as  a  group  of  free  na- 
tions, and  it  was  pleasant  to  find  so  many 
involuntary  tributes  to  our  success  in  govern- 
ment. Whenever  there  was  any  doubt  about 
the  proper  mandatory  for  a  part  of  the  world, 
they  generally  came  first  to  us." 

"I  should  have  thought,"  said  Lady  Seven- 
oaks,  "that  the  whole  creed  of  Imperialism 
had  been  a  Httle  blown  upon.  Mr.  Wyper  said 
the  other  day  that  the  attitude  of  the  British 
Imperialist  was  indistinguishable  from  that  of 
the  Pan-Germans,  except  that  he  had  less  logic 
and  courage." 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         87 

But,  to  her  astonishment,  Mr.  Lenchard 
refused  to  be  drawn.  He  actually  laughed. 

"I  think  that  view  has  a  good  deal  of  truth 
in  it.  The  whole  world  was  bitten  by  Prussian- 
ism  and  none  of  our  records  are  quite  clean. 
We  all  thought  too  much  of  the  lust  of  the 
eyes  and  the  pride  of  life.  But,  yes  —  on  the 
whole  we  were  saner,  even  in  our  worst  ex- 
travagances. Only  our  fools  talked  the  racial 
nonsense  of  the  Boche.  The  great  Imperialists 
were  inclined  to  be  very  humble  in  the  face  of 
their  problems,  and,  remember,  we  had  al- 
ways a  good  deal  of  the  sound  old  ^Vlliggish 
notion  of  liberty  in  our  heroics.  But  we  wanted 
purifj^ing,  and,  please  God,  we've  got  it." 

Mr.  Wyper,  one  of  whose  possessions  was 
an  uncommonly  thick  skin,  was  prepared  to 
dispute  this  proposition.  But  Mr.  Lenchard 
declined. 

"Good  Lord,  I'm  not  going  to  discuss  poli- 
tics at  this  time  of  night.  I  'm  fairly  dropping 
with  sleep.  We'll  talk  about  it  to-morrow,  if 
you  like.  .  .  .  Colonel  Lamont,  I  hear  General 
Morier  is  coming  here.?" 


88  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

"He  turns  up  about  eleven  to-night. 
Malone  wires  that  he's  crossing  in  a  yacht 
which  the  new  Member  for  the  county  has 
borrowed  from  one  of  his  milHonaire  friends." 

"I  saw  a  httle  of  Morier  in  Paris,  and  he 
makes  a  man  feel  about  four  feet  high  beside 
him.  We've  produced  great  soldiers,  as  great 
as  anybody  except  Foch,  but  we  can't  pro- 
duce just  the  Morier  type.  He  does  n't  belong 
to  the  modern  world  at  all.  He  fought  the  war 
in  the  spirit  in  which  St.  Louis  went  to  the 
Crusades  or  a  mediaeval  knight  rode  out  to 
rescue  a  princess.  It  was  funny  to  see  him  try- 
ing to  puzzle  his  way  through  the  kind  of 
problem  we  had  to  face,  wondering  all  the 
time  why  a  war  which  had  been  fought  for 
chivalry  should  end  in  bargaining.  And  the 
odd  thing  was  that  he  finished  by  being  the 
toughest  bargainer  of  the  lot.  A  great  idealist 
often  finds  it  hard  to  understand  other  ideal- 
isms than  his  own,  and  ends  by  being  rather 
specially  terre-a-terre.  I  dare  say  Mr.  Jonas 
would  call  him  an  old  reactionary." 

"No,  I  wouldn't,"  said  that  gentleman. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         89 

"I  call  him  an  'ero.  An  *ero  does  n*t  belong  to 
any  particular  world,  ancient  or  modern.  But 
we  all  take  ofiF  our  'ats  to  'im." 

"He  is  so  wonderful,"  sighed  Mrs.  Aspen- 
den.  *'I  hear  that  he  went  to  Mass  every 
morning  during  all  his  battles." 

"Bless  my  soul,"  said  Colonel  Lamont,  "I 
forgot  all  about  that.  This  island  was  con- 
verted so  thoroughly  at  the  Reformation  that 
there  is  n't  a  priest  within  twenty  miles.  .  .  . 
I  wonder  if  Macmillan  would  be  any  good. 
He  was  rather  nice  about  the  Pope  last  Sun- 
day. The  Lith  is  getting  pretty  low,  and  if 
only  this  rain  does  n't  bring  it  up  there  may 
be  a  chance  of  inveigling  him  from  the  sea 
trout.'* 


VI 

Mr.  Lenchard  discusses  the  faults  and  virtues  of  British 
Imperialism.  General  Morier  is  in  doubt  about  the  League 
of  Nations.  A  Practical  Politician  combats  Idealism, 
and  shows  himself  not  immune  from  it. 

It  was  Lady  Sevenoaks's  habit  to  wake  early 
and  to  pass  the  time  in  writing  notes.  At  that 
hour  of  the  morning  her  mind  was  active  and 
her  desire  to  express  it  overpowering.  In  Lon- 
don she  would  scatter  her  billets  among  her 
friends  by  special  messenger,  but  here  in  the 
Hebrides  she  confined  herself  to  inditing  let- 
ters for  the  post.  Her  first  thought  on  waking 
was  of  General  Morier.  She  had  a  weakness 
for  great  men,  especially  for  the  romantically 
great;  she  remembered  that  during  the  war 
she  had  once  sat  next  to  him  at  lunch  at  the 
French  Embassy,  and  she  desired  to  recall 
herself  to  his  memory.  Accordingly  she  wrote 
and  despatched  by  her  maid  an  agreeable 
letter  written  in  her  best  French. 

But  while  Lady  Sevenoaks's  French  was  of 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         91 

a  crystal  clarity,  not  so  her  handwriting.  A 
footman  presented  the  missive  to  General 
Morier  while  he  was  still  heavy  with  sleep. 
The  attempt  to  decipher  it  woke  him  up  most 
efiFectively,  and  he  continued  his  labour  while 
he  shaved.  He  grasped  the  friendly  tenor  of 
the  document,  but  for  the  life  of  him  he  could 
not  read  the  signature. 

When  he  descended  to  breakfast  he  found 
the  party  awaiting  him  with  a  curiosity 
scarcely  masked  by  good  breeding.  Indeed, 
he  was  a  figure  which  would  have  commanded 
attention  in  any  company,  even  if  his  famous 
record  had  been  imknown.  Tall  and  spare, 
and  bearing  himself  with  that  erect  grace 
which  his  countrymen  alone  can  command, 
he  seemed  the  incarnation  of  the  spirit  of 
chivalrous  war.  A  long,  curving  scar  on  his 
brown  cheek  told  of  that  wound  in  the  first 
Argonne  campaign  which  had  laid  him  aside 
for  months,  and  a  maimed  hand  spoke  of  the 
grave  days  of  Verdun  when  corps  commander 
and  fantassin  alike  faced  imminent  death. 
His  deep-set  grey  eyes  were  at  once  shy  and 


92  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

masterful,  and  in  every  line  of  his  worn  face 
were  gentleness  and  self-control.  He  spoke 
almost  perfect  English,  and  Colonel  Lamont, 
who  had  welcomed  him  in  halting  French,  re- 
lapsed with  a  sigh  of  relief  into  his  native 
tongue. 

Lady  Sevenoaks  greeted  him  with  the 
warmth  of  a  privileged  friend,  Mrs.  Aspenden 
with  the  reverence  with  which  she  would  have 
received  a  Prince  of  the  Church,  and  Mrs. 
Lavender  with  something  approaching  that 
curtsy  which  she  would  have  refused  to  any 
crowned  head  on  the  globe;  the  young  men 
stood  to  attention  as  if  on  parade;  and  Mr. 
Jonas,  in  his  hero-worship,  forbore  to  make 
any  remark  till  he  had  finished  his  porridge. 

After  the  meal  the  General  took  his  hostess 
aside.  "Have  you  perhaps  a  Madame  Snooks 
staying  in  the  house?"  he  asked.  "I  desire  to 
be  presented  to  her." 

Mrs.  Lamont  hastily  repeated  the  names 
of  the  women.  The  General  reflected  and 
found  enlightenment.  **I  beg  your  pardon," 
he  said,  laughing;  *'I  am  getting  old  and 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         93 

stupid.  Snooks!  But,  of  course,  no.  It  is  my 
blunder."  And  he  hastened  to  compliment 
Lady  Sevenoaks  on  her  morning  freshness 
and  on  the  distinguished  public  services  of 
her  husband. 

It  was  a  day  of  steady  rain.  "Confound  it,'* 
said  Colonel  Lamont.  "This  will  fill  up  the 
Lith,  and  there  will  be  no  hope  of  getting  Mac- 
millan  away  from  it."  In  the  house  there  was 
a  large  and  pleasant  room,  half  library,  half 
smoking-room,  which  was  the  usual  rendez- 
vous on  wet  days.  Many  fine  heads  of  deer 
adorned  the  walls,  and  the  bookshelves 
contained  the  assortment  of  hterature  com- 
mon in  Scottish  country  houses  —  old  three- 
volume  editions  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  novels, 
the  proceedings  of  antiquarian  and  agricul- 
tural societies,  and  odd  works  of  eighteenth- 
century  di\dnity.  Colonel  Lamont  had  else- 
where in  the  house  a  well-appointed  Hbrary, 
and  this  room  was  the  backwater  into  which 
drifted  the  less  regarded  volumes. 

Here  during  the  morning  most  of  the  men 
found  themselves  assembled,  with  eyes  turn- 


94  THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

ing  from  the  wet  window-panes  to  the  glowing 
peat  fire.  Mr.  Lenchard  and  General  Morier 
stood  talking  on  the  hearth-rug;  Mr.  Maldwin 
was  deep  in  a  volume  of  Jorrocks,  with  his 
legs  swung  over  the  arm  of  his  chair;  Sir 
William  Jacob  and  Mr.  Wyper  were  writing 
letters;  and  Christopher  Normand  was  dozing 
over  a  three-days-old  Times. 

Mr.  Wyper  finished  his  correspondence  and 
joined  the  two  by  the  fire. 

"I  am  afraid  Lady  Sevenoaks  rather  tra- 
duced me  last  night,"  he  told  Mr.  Lenchard. 
"Morally,  of  course,  I  never  classed  Imperial- 
ists with  Pan-Germans.  If  you  had  clearly 
envisaged  your  aims  —  which  you  never  did 
—  you  might  be  liable  to  the  charge.  But 
what  difference,  except  in  degree,  was  there 
between  your  ' self-suflScing  Empire'  and  the 
Germany  which  Biilow  and  Ballin  dreamed 
oi?  You  too  wanted  to  set  yourselves  outside 
and  above  the  comradeship  of  nations.'* 

Mr.  Lenchard  regarded  with  some  disfavour 
the  restless  being  before  him. 

"Nobody    ever   preached   a   self-sufficing 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         95 

Empire.  It  was  a  fiction  of  our  opponents. 
What  we  advocated  was  the  development  of 
a  closer  union  between  the  parts  of  that  Em- 
pire. Only  a  fool,  if  he  has  to  Hve  in  the  world, 
seeks  to  cut  himself  off  from  the  world." 

"Will  you  tell  me  what  is  this  Imperial- 
ism.''" General  Morier  asked.  "For  many 
years  I  have  had  little  leisure  to  study,  and 
I  know  it  only  as  a  name." 

Mr.  Lenchard  turned  with  a  smile  to  the 
General. 

"You  ask  me  a  good  deal,"  he  said.  "But 
I  will  try  to  tell  you  what  I  mean  by  it.  Like 
every  big  thing,  people  interpreted  it  in 
different  ways." 

He  lit  his  pipe,  pulled  up  an  armchair,  and 
stretched  his  long  legs  to  the  fire. 

"First,  I  believed  in  the  big  social  unit.  In 
our  complicated  world  you  cannot  limit  any 
question  territorially,  and  the  big  questions 
need  a  big  space  for  settlement.  Therefore, 
like  Germany,  I  believed  in  great  nations 
administering  great  tracts  of  land.  No.  It 
was  n't  grandeur.  General.  It  was  common 


96  TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

sense.  I  wanted  to  create  a  new  patriotism 
for  the  big  unit,  which  would  not  supersede 
the  smaller  patriotisms  but  would  safeguard 
them.  I  believe  that  to  be  a  right  deduction 
from  history.  Take  the  case  of  Scotland.  If 
Scotland  had  remained  a  little  separate  king- 
dom, like  Holland,  she  would  have  lost  her 
Scottishness.  The  struggle  for  life  would  have 
rubbed  away  her  idioms  of  language  and  lit- 
erature, thought  and  manners  and  tradition. 
But,  being  part  of  the  British  Empire,  she 
can  cherish  all  her  idiosyncrasies,  and  at  the 
same  time  feel  a  genuine  devotion  to  the 
bigger  unit  which  she  has  done  so  much  to 
create." 

The  Frenchman  nodded.  "That  is  truth," 
he  said. 

"Well,  then,  I  wanted  the  Empire  for  three 
reasons.  One  was  its  economic  value.  These 
islands  were  over-industrialised,  and  to  give 
our  people  a  wholesome  life  we  needed  more 
space.  A  second  was  its  moral  value.  The 
duties  of  Empire  brought  fresh  air  into  our 
politics,  and  gave  our  young  men  a  richer 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         97 

field  of  service.  Thirdly,  I  wanted  it  as  a  safe- 
guard of  peace.  The  hope  of  peace,  to-day  as 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  lies  in  a  community  of 
law,  interests,  and  culture  over  the  biggest 
possible  area.  We  could  not  restore  right  away 
the  unity  of  Christendom,  but  the  British 
Empire  was  the  first  instalment." 

"That  is  clear,"  said  General  Morier,  and 
Mr.  Wyper,  whose  mouth  was  opened  to 
questions,  forbore,  for  the  Frenchman  went 
on:  "There  is  nothing  in  what  you  say  that 
France  would  not  subscribe  to.  I  see  in  it  none 
of  that  universalism  which  I  dread." 

"What  effect  has  the  war  had  on  your 
views,  Philip?"  Christopher  Normand  asked. 

"It  has  not  changed  them.  In  a  sense  it  has 
justified  them.  But,  thank  God,  it  has  also 
superseded  them." 

General  Morier  looked  anxious. 

"Are  you  then  a  convert  to  universalism?" 

"I  hope  not,"  said  Mr.  Lenchard,  "for 
I  never  heard  a  more  beastly  word.  But  I 
am  a  convert  to  the  closer  interconnection  oi 
all  peoples.  We  are  in  for  Democracy  every- 


98  TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

where,  and  we  have  got  to  safeguard  the  world 
against  its  defects.  Its  biggest  danger  is  that 
the  people  become  absorbed  in  their  domestic 
problems,  and,  while  the  State  extends  its 
area  of  control  over  national  life,  there  is  a 
perpetual  risk  of  a  country  intensifying  its 
self-consciousness  to  the  point  of  truculent 
independence.  We  have  lost  the  old  cosmo- 
politan society  which  kept  the  upper  classes 
of  Europe  in  touch  with  each  other,  and  we 
are  in  danger  of  leaving  foreign  relations  to 
a  small  body  of  disregarded  experts.  That  is 
simply  foolishness,  for  however  nice  you  make 
your  house  and  garden  it  won't  be  a  desirable 
dwelling  unless  you  see  that  the  amenities  of 
the  neighbourhood  are  preserved.  .  .  .  Well, 
the  war  has  shown  us,  I  think,  that  we  can't 
live  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  Most 
people  now  see  that  foreign  affairs  are  as 
much  a  part  of  their  politics  as  an  increase  in 
the  income  tax.  But  unless  we  get  the  right 
kind  of  machinery  we  shall  always  tend  to 
sink  back  to  the  old  absorption  in  home 
questions.  We  have  to  orientate  the  parish 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP         99 

pump  with  a  wider  world.  I  used  to  think 
that  the  Empire  was  enough  for  the  purpose, 
but  now  I  see  that  we  want  nothing  short  of 
humanity  at  large." 

INIr.  Wyper  expressed  his  approval.  "Your 
definition  of  Imperialism,"  he  said,  "was  pure 
Prussianism.  It  was  exactly  what  the  parson 
here  was  defending  last  Sunday,  when  he 
warned  us  not  to  despise  Germany's  ideals. 
I  could  parallel  every  one  of  your  points  out 
of  Delbriick.  But  I  welcome  a  belated  convert 
to  the  League  of  Nations.  There,  at  any  rate, 
we  are  in  agreement." 

"I  don't  think  we  should  agree  long,"  said 
Mr.  Lenchard.  "You  want  to  blur  all  nation- 
ality into  a  soft,  pulpy  thing.  I  want  to  make 
it  harder  and  craggier  than  ever.  Before  we 
can  have  a  League  of  Nations  we  must  have 
the  nations,  and  that's  what  you  fellows  for- 
get." 

jNIr.  Wyper  would  fain  have  retorted,  but 
at  that  moment  Mr.  Jonas  and  Mr.  Burford 
entered  the  room.  They  had  been  for  a  walk 
in  the  rain,  and  the  wet  glistened  on  their 


100        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

faces.  Mr.  Lenchard,  at  the  request  of  the 
General,  continued: 

*'I  believe  in  a  League  of  Nations  on  the 
same  grounds  as  I  believed  in  Imperialism. 
The  least  important  is  that  it  is  the  only 
guarantee  of  peace.  I  will  give  you  a  reason 
which  should  appeal  to  Jonas.  We  in  Britain 
have  to  face  a  complete  reconstruction  of  in- 
dustrial life.  Thank  Heaven,  we  mean  busi- 
ness this  time  and  won't  be  allowed  to  trifle 
with  it.  But,  if  industry  is  a  world-wide  thing, 
how  are  we  going  to  give  our  people  a  better 
life  if  elsewhere  on  the  globe  we  have  to  com- 
pete with  the  cheap  products  of  the  dark  ages? 
Believe  me,  a  country  which  develops  its  in- 
dustrial life  on  purely  nationalist  lines  will 
end  in  disaster.  It  will  either  fail  and  starve, 
or  it  will  go  to  war  like  Germany.  I  am  not  a 
Socialist,  but  I  have  always  admitted  the 
good  sense  of  the  Internationale.  The  Social- 
ists saw  the  world-wide  ramifications  of  the 
things  that  interested  them,  and  they  made 
an  honest  attempt  to  provide  adequate  ma- 
chinery. ...  I  won't  bother  you  with  other 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        101 

reasons,  except  to  say  this.  The  moral  and 
imaginative  value  which  some  of  us  found  in 
Imperialism  is  to  be  found  in  a  far  fuller 
measure  in  the  conception  of  a  working  union 
of  all  civilised  peoples." 

General  Morier  sadly  shook  his  head.  *'I 
do  not  deny  the  splendour  of  the  conception, 
but  I  fear  that  it  is  too  splendid  for  an  im- 
perfect world.  It  will  weaken  the  homely 
intimacies  of  race  and  country,  which  have 
about  them  the  glamour  of  ages.  How  can 
you  get  that  long-descended  reverence  with 
which  to  invest  your  brand-new  League.^" 

*'I  think,"  said  Mr.  Lenchard,  "that  the 
difficulties  are  enormous,  but  that  most  of 
them  will  vanish  if  they  are  faced  by  a  reso- 
lute good  will.  As  for  the  sanction,  we  must 
make  it.  We  must  create  an  international 
mood,  and  make  men  as  loyal  to  mankind  as 
they  are  to  their  own  lands.  It  can  be  done 
and  it  will  be  done.  The  larger  patriotism  does 
not  destroy  the  smaller,  for  men  are  loyal  to 
the  British  Empire  as  well  as  to  England  or 
Canada,  and  a  Frenchman  loves  France  as 


102        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

much  as  his  Normandy  village.  But  it  needs," 
he  concluded,  fixing  his  eye  on  Mr.  Wyper, 
"the  devil  of  a  lot  of  wisdom,  and  the  thing 
will  be  wrecked  at  the  start  if  it  is  left  to 
feeble  intellectuals  who  profess  for  the  world 
a  devotion  which  they  refuse  to  their  own 
country." 

"That's  a  bit  'ard,"  said  Mr.  Jonas,  grin- 
ning. "I  am  'eart  and  soul  for  the  League,  but 
I  'm  puzzled  to  know  how  it 's  going  to  work. 
I  don't  like  the  folk  that  call  themselves 
jurists." 

"No  more  do  I,"  said  Christopher  Nor- 
mand  from  the  depths  of  his  armchair.  "They 
usually  come  from  Guatemala  or  Peru.  They 
start  by  talking  about  Solon  and  Lycurgus 
and  they  end  by  being  squared." 

"What  I  mean  to  say,"  Mr.  Jonas  con- 
tinued, "is  that  I'm  afraid  of  the  League  be- 
coming too  much  of  a  State  and  giving  us  a 
double  dose  of  politics.  Lord  knows  we  have 
enough  to  satisfy  us  at  present!" 

"I  don't  agree,"  said  Mr.  Lenchard.  "We 
want  more  of  the  State  and  not  less,  and  you. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        103 

as  a  good  Socialist,  Jonas,  should  agree  with 
me.  You  made  an  excellent  speech  the  other 
day  in  which  you  told  your  people  that  their 
first  loyalty  was  owed  to  the  State  and  not  to 
their  Union  or  their  class.  We  want  to  uphold 
the  State  as  against  all  sectional  organisa- 
tions. I  don't  want  to  see  men  brigaded  by 
classes  and  interests.  I  want  to  see  every  man 
a  citizen  first  and  a  Trade-Unionist  or  an 
employer  second.  And  I  want  a  World  State 
to  supersede  any  Internationale,  for  it  will 
deal  with  the  whole  complex  of  political  life 
and  not  with  a  fraction." 

Mr.  Lenchard  had  squared  his  shoulders 
and  was  embarking  on  a  fuller  exposition, 
when  the  sound  of  the  luncheon-gong  fell  on 
the  ears  of  the  party.  Luncheon  on  a  wet  day 
in  a  Highland  lodge  is  apt  to  be  a  dreary  meal, 
but  on  this  occasion  the  presence  of  General 
Morier  lent  it  an  agreeable  excitement.  There 
also  appeared  Mr.  Merryweather  Malone, 
who  had  arrived  the  night  before  and  had 
stayed  in  bed  during  the  morning  to  cure  a 
cold.  He  was  a  large  man  of  some  forty-odd 


104        TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

years,  who  combined  a  plump  body  with  a 
lean  countenance.  His  greeting  of  his  fellow 
guests  was  marked  by  the  ceremonious  dig- 
nity common  among  American  gentlemen; 
his  greeting  of  Mrs.  Lavender  was  touched 
with  a  romantic  regret  for  lost  opportunities, 
Speaking  through  a  heavy  catarrh,  he  an- 
nounced that  he  believed  that  he  had  staved 
off  the  pneumonia  which  had  seemed  a  sure 
thing  when  he  awoke,  and  was  now  ready  for  a 
little  nourishment. 

General  Morier  continued  the  conversation 
of  the  smoking-room. 

*'You  English  are  too  idealist,"  he  said. 
"You  strive  after  the  impossible  and  have 
a  passion  for  uniting  incompatibles.  We  of 
France  take  our  stand  on  the  solid  ground  of 
European  tradition.  We  revere  the  wisdom  of 
our  forefathers.  We  believe  in  the  perfecti- 
bility of  mankind  —  but  not  yet  awhile.  We 
do  not  think  that  even  this  great  war  has 
changed  human  nature,  and  we  would  not 
have  it  changed.  We  love  the  fallible  thing 
which  is  France  more  deeply  than  any  cloudy 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        105 

cosmopolitan  fatherland.  You  cannot  break 
with  the  past,  my  friends,  and  you  dare  not 
forget  history." 

Mr.  Jonas  signified  his  assent.  "I  am  always 
preaching  more  'ist'ry,"  he  said. 

"I  wonder  if  you  realise  what  a  difficult 
patch  Britain  has  to  hoe,"  said  Mr.  Normand. 
"France  is  European,  America  is  American. 
We're  European  on  one  side  and  American 
on  another,  and  a  great  many  things  besides. 
We're  a  far  more  complicated  piece  to  fit 
into  the  international  jig-saw  puzzle." 

*'Our  difficulties  are  our  strength,'*  Mr. 
Lenchard  cried.  "Because  we're  no  one  thing 
in  particular  we're  everything.  We're  the 
eternal  hyphen  in  a  new  era." 

"Perhaps,"  said  the  General,  with  a  smile 
at  Mr.  Lenchard's  enthusiasm.  "Nevertheless 
you  seek  two  incompatibles,  a  world  politically 
united,  and  a  spiritual  unity  which  will  alone 
make  the  other  possible.  That  was  your  argu- 
ment this  morning.  Well,  I  say  they  are  in- 
compatibles, and  I  look  to  history  for  the 
proof.  In  the  Roman  Empire  you  had  political 


106        TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

union,  but  you  had  a  thousand  clashing  faiths. 
Then  came  Christianity.  In  the  Middle  Ages 
you  had  spiritual  unity,  but  a  world  all  split 
into  warring  races.  You  may  have  one  or  the 
other,  but  not  both,  and  it  is  both  you  seek. 
You  are  too  idealist." 

"Perhaps  we  are,"  said  Mr.  Lenchard. 
"Nevertheless  we  must  attempt  the  impos- 
sible, for  there  is  no  other  way.  And  after  all. 
General,  mankind  has  advanced  chiefly  by 
attempting  and  achieving  the  incredible.  In 
four  years  Britain  created  out  of  nothing  one 
of  the  most  successful  armies  in  the  world. 
You  yourself  at  Verdun  defied  every  law  of 
probability." 

General  Morier  bowed.  "I  am  a  lover  of 
daring,  my  friend.  Perhaps  it  is  not  on  that 
ground  I  oppose  you.  The  trouble  is  that  I 
do  not  like  your  new  world.  I  think  of  France, 
now  these  many  centuries  old  and  yet  eter- 
nally young.  I  rejoice  to  see  her  head  held 
high  among  the  nations.  I  would  have  her 
strong  through  wise  alliances,  and  modest  in 
her  strength,  for  being  old  she  is  well-bred, 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        107 

and  does  not  need  to  boast  like  a  parvenu.  We 
and  you  together,  and  the  Americans,  are 
security  enough  for  peace,  for  though  we  are 
unhke,  yet  our  quahties  supplement  each 
other  and  the  sum  is  political  wisdom.  I  do 
not  like  to  think  of  my  country  shorn  of  her 
strength  for  defence,  which  is  the  pride  of 
every  man  and  every  people,  and  surrendering 
her  honour  to  an  international  debating  soci- 
ety." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Mr.  Wyper.  "We  have 
abolished  duelling  and  leave  our  disputes  for 
the  law  to  settle." 

"The  parallel  is  not  exact.  Duelling,  it  is 
true,  is  infrequent,  and  so  I  hope  will  be  war. 
But  every  true  man  is  still  able  and  willing, 
if  need  be,  to  defend  his  honour,  his  wife,  his 
family,  with  his  own  hand.  You  would  take 
from  my  nation  the  power  to  do  likewise." 

Mr.  Wyper  admitted  that  he  would. 

"Then  I  do  not  like  it.  You  would  destroy 
the  old  way,  but  you  will  not  change  human- 
ity, and  the  day  will  come  when  your  League 
will  break  and  you  will  have  to  face  the 


108        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

ancient  mischief  with  untrained  arms  and  a 
broken  tradition.  We  French  love  real  things 
and  do  not  walk  with  our  heads  in  the  air. 
We  believe  that  God  has  a  holy  city  prepared 
for  us,  but  not  this  side  the  grave.  So  in  the 
meantime  we  chng  to  our  little  terrestrial 
towns."  And  he  quoted: 

"Heureux  ceux  qui  sont  morts  pour  les  cites  charneUes, 
Car  elles  sont  le  corps  de  la  cite  de  Dieu." 

The  beauty  of  his  voice  and  the  gentleness 
of  his  manner  had  a  curious  effect  on  the 
others.  It  made  Mrs.  Lavender  want  to  cry, 
and  Mrs.  Aspenden's  face  assumed  that  air 
of  devotion  which  it  wore  during  the  minis- 
trations of  Father  Mabbett.  Mr.  Burford  was 
also  greatly  impressed,  and,  removing  his 
spectacles,  blinked  earnestly  at  the  speaker. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  a  visitor  ap- 
peared on  the  scene.  Mr.  Archibald  Strath- 
bungo,  the  new  Member  for  the  county,  was 
a  young  man  already  celebrated  in  the  half- 
world  of  politics.  He  had  been  private  secre- 
tary to  an  eminent  statesman,  and  had  made 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        109 

for  himself  a  high  reputation  as  an  adroit 
tactician.  No  man  could  more  subtly  influence 
the  Press  or  had  a  keener  nose  for  electoral 
possibilities,  and  to  him  was  generally  at- 
tributed the  unique  success  of  the  Coalition 
at  the  polls.  He  was  slight  and  boyish  of 
figure,  with  close-cropped  black  hair,  large 
restless  eyes,  and  the  jaw  of  an  Old  Bailey 
lawyer.  Whence  he  sprung  no  one  knew,  but 
his  speech  had  the  racy  idiom  of  the  environs 
of  Glasgow.  To  an  immense  circle  of  acquaint- 
ances he  was  known  as  "Bunggie." 

He  introduced  himself  to  his  host,  who  pre- 
sented him  to  the  company.  With  some,  such 
as  Mrs.  Lavender  and  Mr.  Jonas,  he  was  al- 
ready acquainted.  Lady  Sevenoaks  regarded 
him  with  a  stare  of  abhorrence,  seeing  in  him 
a  shameless  enemy.  A  place  was  laid  for  him, 
and  he  fell  with  zest  to  luncheon. 

"How's  the  cold,  Mr.  Malone.^"  he  asked. 
"You  wouldn't  take  my  advice  and  try  a 
rummer  of  hot  whisky.  Man,  teetotaller  or  no, 
it's  a  mistake  to  despise  the  best  medicine 
God  ever  made." 


110        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

Mr.  Malone  inquired  as  to  the  health  of 
the  owner  of  the  yacht  in  which  he  had 
travelled  the  previous  day. 

"He's  fine.  He's  got  a  new  maggot  in  his 
head  about  making  Persian  rugs  on  Highland 
looms  with  native  dyes.  I  like  old  Linkum- 
doddie,"  he  added,  turning  brightly  to  Colonel 
Lamont.  *'If  it  were  n't  for  his  yawt  I'd  never 
get  about  these  islands.  I've  a  kind  of  pull 
with  him,  for  I  spoke  a  word  in  the  right 
quarter  about  his  peerage  and  I  think  he 
knows  it." 

"Linkumdoddie,"  murmured  Lady  Penel- 
ope Wyper.  "I'm  sure  there's  no  such  name 
in  the  peerage." 

"You'll  find  it  in  the  Profiteerage,"  Mr. 
Normand  whispered. 

Mr.  Strathbungo  had  broken  utterly  the 
spell  cast  by  General  Morier.  An  air  of  rollick- 
ing candour  sat  on  him,  and  one  might  have 
suspected  him  of  innocence  but  for  his  alert 
eyes.  It  was  not  long  before  Mr.  Wj^per  had 
roused  him  to  argument  by  a  complaint  of 
certain  electioneering  methods. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        111 

"Ugh,  away,"  said  the  gentleman.  *'  There's 
some  of  you  folk  too  high-minded  for  this 
world  as  long  as  you're  on  the  losing  side. 
When  you  see  a  chance  of  winning  there's 
nothing  you  won't  do.  Just  look  at  the  Lib- 
erals. They  were  always  declaring  that  the 
party  system  was  the  root  of  the  Constitu- 
tion, until  they  saw  that  the  Tories  were  likely 
to  beat  them  at  the  game,  and  then  they  had 
no  words  bad  enough  for  party  spirit.  I'm  a 
plain  man,  and  I  believe  in  parties,  same  as  I 
believe  in  nations.  You've  got  to  fight  and 
win,  and  then  you  do  the  best  you  can  for  the 
country." 

"I  presume  you  do  not  believe  in  any 
Hague  Convention  about  the  methods  of 
party  warfare,  Mr.  Strathbungo,"  said  Lady 
Sevenoaks  acidly. 

*'I  don't.  There's  just  one  convention  to 
keep  in  mind,  and  that's  human  nature.  The 
man  that  understands  human  nature  wins.'* 

*'And  you  would  defend  an  appeal  to  the 
people  on  the  programme  of  'anging  the 
Kaiser  and  making  Germany  pay  for  every- 


112        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

thing,  when  you  know  both  are  impossible?  " 
asked  Mr.  Jonas. 

"I  don't  know  they're  impossible,  and  I 
defend  them  right  enough.  They  were  my 
own  idea.  We  would  have  lost  the  election  if 
we  had  gone  on  talking  about  brotherhood 
and  the  'spirit  of  the  trenches'  and  all  that 
hot  air.  What  you  object  to  were  the  only 
things  the  voters  cared  a  rush  about.  You 
Labour  chaps  did  the  same  thing,  only  you 
were  n't  clever  enough.  You  started  yowling 
about  Conscription,  when  you  knew  there 
was  n't  a  man  on  our  side  who  did  n't  loathe 
the  very  name  of  it." 

Mrs.  Lamont's  mild  spirit  was  stirred.  "It 
all  sounds  very  wicked,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Mr.  Strath- 
bungo  genially.  "It's  the  rules  of  the  game. 
The  people  want  to  fight  and  it's  your  busi- 
ness to  show  them  sport.  You  've  got  to  fight 
on  the  issues  they  prefer." 

"Such  is  Democracy,"  said  General  Morier 
softly. 

Mr,  Normand  leaned  over  to  him.  "We 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        113 

English  are  too  idealist,"  he  whispered,  and 
the  Frenchman  smiled. 

Mr.  Strathbungo  caught  an  echo  of  the 
phrase.  "That's  an  awful  word,"  he  said. 
"I'm  not  very  particular,  but  I  wouldn't 
like  to  be  an  ideahst.  It 's  a  poor,  milk-blooded, 
blue-spectacled  sort  of  business." 

Colonel  Lamont  was  ill  at  ease.  He  had 
never  met  the  new  Member  before,  and  dis- 
approved of  him  strongly;  but  his  sense  of 
hospitality  held  him  in  an  embarrassed  silence. 
Not  so  Lady  Guidwillie.  With  her  grimmest 
smile  she  addressed  Mr.  Strathbungo. 

"You  had  a  meeting  at  Waucht  in  Decem- 
ber," she  said.  "I  wasn't  present,  but  if  I 
had  been  I  would  have  moved  a  vote  of  no 
confidence.  You  talked  some  precious  non- 
sense about  the  land." 

Coffee  having  been  served,  Mr.  Strath- 
bungo was  smoking  —  a  cigar  set  in  an  amber 
mouthpiece  which  stuck  in  a  corner  of  his 
wide,  loose  mouth. 

"Let's  hear  what  the  nonsense  was,"  he 
said  pleasantly. 


114        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

"You  told  them  that  the  land  in  the  High- 
lands could  be  made  to  support  five  times  the 
present  population,  if  they  got  rid  of  the  land- 
lords. I'll  give  you  leave  to  try  at  Waucht. 
I  pay  twenty-five  shillings  in  the  pound  for 
rates,  and  there  are  n't  twenty  acres  on  the 
estate  you  could  get  a  plough  through." 

Mr.  Strathbungo  suddenly  became  a  dif- 
ferent person.  He  laid  down  his  cigar  and  his 
whimsical  face  grew  solemn.  Also  the  veneer 
of  English  accent  disappeared  and  he  spoke 
in  the  unabashed  drawl  of  his  native  city. 

"I  wasn't  referring  to  Waucht,"  he  said. 
"There's  not  much  could  live  at  Waucht,  ex- 
cept deer.  And  I  was  n't  speaking  of  landlords 
like  your  folk.  You  're  the  old  kind,  who  think 
first  of  their  people  and  would  starve  rather 
than  let  them  starve.  But  I  stick  to  every 
word  I  said  about  the  Highlands  at  large. 
They  're  stuffed  with  Englishmen  and  Ameri- 
cans and  Jews  that  come  only  for  their  amuse- 
ment and  don't  care  a  docken  about  the  place. 
Oh,  they  spend  money.  I  know  it.  But  they 
spend  it  to  make  people  slaves,  and  I  would 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        115 

rather  have  the  Highlander  poor  and  free. 
I  'm  one  myself,  and  my  blood  boils  when  I  see 
big  trencher-fed  gillies  crawling  before  a  Lon- 
don shopkeeper." 

"Democracy!  Democracy!"  said  Mr.  Nor- 
mand. 

"Democracy  be  blowed!  The  Highlands 
were  never  democratic  —  never  in  that  way. 
But  they  used  to  be  free.  Tell  me,  Colonel,  did 
ever  men  fight  better  than  the  Highland  bat- 
talions? They've  earned  the  right  to  the  use 
of  their  native  land.  Are  you  willing  to  have 
that  land  only  a  playground  and  a  resort  for 
honeymoon  couples,  and  its  chief  export  pic- 
ture postcards?  You  ask  Macmillan,  the  min- 
ister. He  '11  tell  you  of  the  old  days  when  there 
were  droves  of  black  cattle  on  ground  that 
now  has  nothing  but  deer.  You  can't  restore 
those  days,  but  you  can  bring  in  modern  in- 
ventions. You  can  make  the  finest  fishing 
industry  in  Britain  if  you  take  trouble  about 
canning  factories  and  transport.  You  can 
start  the  old  cottage  industries  again.  You 
can  introduce  sheep  where  they  should  be 


116        TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

instead  of  deer,  and  cattle  where  they  should 
be  instead  of  sheep,  and  the  plough  where  it 
should  be  instead  of  pasture.  But  the  first 
thing  you've  got  to  do  is  to  emancipate  the 
land  from  the  idle  rich." 

Lady  Guidwillie  regarded  the  speaker  al- 
most with  affection.  ''There's  some  sense  in 
your  head,  Mr.  Strathbungo.  I  rather  wish  I 
had  been  at  your  meeting.  I  might  have 
seconded  the  vote  of  confidence." 

"Of  course  you  would!"  he  cried.  "The 
real  gentry  like  you  should  be  on  my  side. 
Do  you  think  I  came  to  this  part  of  the  world 
for  fun. 5^  I  have  dreamed  of  the  job  ever  since  I 
could  stand  on  two  legs,  and  now  the  war  has 
given  me  a  chance.  I  am  not  going  to  rest  as 
long  as  there's  an  acre  of  Highland  ground 
lying  idle  that  can  be  used  to  support  human 
life.  What 's  left  over  can  go  to  sport.  I  like  a 
day  with  the  gun  myself." 

Mr.  Jonas,  who  had  been  vastly  entertained 
shook  his  head. 

"You  can't  do  it,  Bunggie.  Your  old  CoaH- 
tion  depends  on  the  idle  rich." 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        117 

The  young  man  forgot  his  manners.  "  Then 
I'll  see  the  Coalition  in  Tophet,"  he  said,  with 
a  ferocity  that  produced  a  sudden  silence. 

General  Morier  leaned  towards  Mr.  Nor- 
mand.  "I  was  right,"  he  said.  "You  English 
—  all  of  you  —  are  too  idealist." 


vn 

The  visit  to  the  Sea  Sherries  and  Lord  Linkitmdoddie's 
yacht.  Mr.  Merryweather  Malone  enlarges  on  the  gulf  be- 
tween British  and  American  minds  and  the  embarrass- 
ments of  his  own  land.  He  differs  Jrom  General  Morier 
and  comforts  him  uritk  texts. 

During  the  night  a  wind  rose  which  blew 
away  the  rain,  and  on  Thursday  morning  the 
island  woke  to  blue  skies  and  a  world  washed 
clean.  The  little  hill  streams  were  still  in 
spate,  but  the  strong  sun  dried  the  ground,  so 
that  after  breakfast  it  was  possible  for  Mr. 
Strathbungo  to  smoke  his  first  cigar  seated 
on  a  bank  of  heather  above  the  lawn,  where 
he  was  volubly  appreciating  the  prospect. 
He,  General  Morier,  and  Mr.  Malone  had  to 
leave  that  afternoon,  and  it  was  arranged 
that  the  morning  should  be  spent  on  the 
little  isles  known  as  the  Sea  Skerries,  where 
they  could  be  picked  up  for  luncheon  by 
Lord  Linkumdoddie's  yacht,  in  which  the 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        119 

three  departing  guests  were  to  continue  their 
journey. 

There  must  be  an  attraction  between  oppo- 
sites,  for  General  Morier  showed  a  curious 
Hking  for  Mr.  Strathbungo's  society.  He  had 
played  billiards  with  him  the  evening  before 
and  been  soundly  beaten,  and  he  now  took  his 
seat  beside  him  on  the  heather. 

"You  have  told  me  many  things,"  he  said, 
"but  you  have  not  spoken  about  the  League 
of  Nations.  We  were  discussing  it  yesterday 
when  you  arrived.  You  are  a  British  politician 
—  what  you  call  a  practical  man.  What  do 
you  say  to  it?" 

Mr.  Strathbungo  winked  solemnly  at  his 
questioner. 

"It's  all  right,"  he  said.  "Personally  I'm 
not  much  heeding  about  it.  It 's  not  the  kind 
of  business  that  interests  me.  But  it 's  a  grand 
thing  to  keep  some  folks  quiet.  You  see^ 
General,  most  folk  are  not  men  of  the  world 
like  you  and  me.  They  like  hot  air  and  fine 
sentiment,  and  the  great  thing  is  to  give  them 
a  subject  where  they  can  safely  indulge  their 


120        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

taste.  They  can  blow  ofiF  all  the  steam  they 
want  about  the  League  of  Nations  without 
doing  much  harm." 

"But  for  the  scheme  itself  you  do  not  care 
—  how  is  it  you  say?  —  a  docken?'* 

"Well,  I  would  n't  just  say  that.  I'm  quite 
ready  to  be  enthusiastic  about  the  parliament 
of  man  and  the  federation  of  the  world,  and 
all  the  rest  of  it.  But  I  don't  regard  it  as  very 
practical  politics." 

"And  yet  it  is  in  the  forefront  of  the  Peace 
deliberations." 

"It  had  to  be.  We  had  to  satisfy  America, 
and  it  turns  out  we  only  satisfied  Wilson.  .  .  . 
Well,  they  can  fight  it  out  as  they  like  for  me. 
If  the  thing  goes  phut,  I'm  not  caring.  If  it 
succeeds,  good  and  well.  Anyhow,  it's  a  fine 
safety-valve  and  makes  a  lot  of  wind-bags 
happy.  I'm  all  for  keeping  a  subject  hke  that 
as  a  standing  diversion  for  what  you  call 
idealists." 

As  they  walked  down  to  the  shore.  General 
Morier  found  himself  in  company  with  Chris- 
topher Normand  and  Mr.  Burford. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        121 

*'I  like  the  young  Stratlibungo,"  he  said. 
**He  is  a  good  and  merry  fellow.  But  I  think 
he  is  a  relic  of  the  old  life  before  the  war,  for 
he  has  not  been  touched  by  it.  I  wonder  how 
he  contrived  it.  Have  you  many  like  him?" 

"Heaps,"  said  Mr.  Normand.  "All  the  pro- 
fessional politicians.  They  are  by  no  means 
dead,  and  nothing  changes  them.  If  there  was 
a  universal  convulsion  and  we  were  all  sud- 
denly back  in  the  Palaeolithic  age  they  would 
be  organising  caucuses  next  morning  among 
the  cave-men." 

Mr.  Burford  took  a  more  hopeful  view. 
*'You  won't  find  many.  Only  a  few  middle- 
aged  folk  who  have  no  children.  I  go  about 
among  the  towns  and  villages  of  England  and 
I  hardly  come  across  a  man  who  has  n't  had 
his  world  knocked  endways  by  the  war.  They 
can't  remember  the  life  they  lived  five  years 
ago.  For  good  or  for  bad,  mankind's  got  a 
jog  out  of  its  rut." 

"I  don't  know.  What  about  America?" 

"Ah,  America,"  said  General  Morier.  "A 
great  and  most  curious  country."  His  air  was 


122        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

such  as  miglit  have  been  worn  by  a  mediseval 
geographer  puzzHng  over  a  modern  atlas. 

The  short  journey  to  the  Skerries  was  per- 
formed in  heavy  salmon-cobles  rowed  by 
sturdy  fishermen.  It  was  indeed  a  marvellous 
day,  the  sunlight  dancing  on  the  ripples,  the 
big  hills  of  the  mainland  showing  blue  and 
distant,  oyster-catchers  and  terns  piping  on 
the  shingle,  and  every  corner  of  shore  a  nook 
of  greenery.  When  the  Skerries  were  reached, 
some  of  the  party  set  off  to  visit  the  ruins  of  a 
monastery  famous  in  Church  history.  General 
Morier,  who  had  been  ingeminating  America 
as  Lord  Falkland  ingeminated  Peace,  stayed 
behind  with  Mr.  Malone,  and  the  two,  along 
with  Mrs.  Lavender,  Mr.  Burford,  and  Pen- 
rose MacAndrew,  seated  themselves  on  the 
top  of  a  little  cliff  which  was  crowned  with  a 
thatch  of  young  heather. 

"I'm  sorry  to  leave,"  said  Mr.  Malone. 
"I'm  always  mighty  sorry  to  leave  any  part 
of  this  little  country.  I  'm  a  lover  of  England, 
Martha,  though  I  don't  forsake  my  native 
land  like  you.  I  wish  America  were  planted 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        123 

right  here,  for  then  there  would  be  a  better 
chance  of  our  getting  to  like  each  other." 

Mr.  Burford  inquired  concerning  American 
opinion  regarding  Britain. 

"It's  better,"  said  Mr.  Malone.  "You  can't 
fight  in  the  same  trenches  against  the  same 
Hun  without  feeling  a  kind  of  sympathy.  But 
there 's  plenty  of  room  for  improvement.  The 
trouble  is  we  have  too  much  in  common.  We 
can't  help  feeling  we  are  near  relations,  and 
that  riles  us.  If  there  was  n't  so  much  English- 
ness  in  the  United  States,  we  'd  think  England 
a  fine  museum-piece  and  revere  her." 

"No,"  he  said,  in  reply  to  a  question  by 
Mr.  Burford.  "It  isn't  Irish  and  German 
propaganda  or  lying  history  books  or  dam- 
fool  Englishmen  on  their  travels.  The  main 
cause  is  right  deep  down  in  our  nature.  We 
speak  pretty  well  the  same  language,  but  we 
have  n't  the  same  way  of  looking  at  things. 
We  have  n't  the  same  sense  of  humour,  and 
that's  a  difference  that  would  divorce  hus- 
band and  wife.  You  pitch  the  case  too  low, 
and  we  think  it  funny  to  put  it  sky-high.  One 


124        TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

day  last  summer  I  was  in  a  bit  of  the  line 
which  the  British  were  holding  next  door  to 
the  Americans.  There  was  a  horrid  great  shell- 
ing all  morning.  Our  boys  said  they  reckoned 
that  hell  and  Vesuvius  had  been  having 
a  bowling-match.  An  English  sergeant  I 
spoke  to  admitted  when  he  was  pressed  — 
when  he  was  pressed,  remember  —  that  the 
Kaiser  might  have  been  a  bit  'asty  that  morn- 
ing. When  we  think  poorly  of  a  man,  we  say 
he's  so  low  down  he'd  want  an  aeroplane  to 
get  up  to  hell.  You'd  mention  he  was  an  out- 
sider and  trouble  no  more  about  him.  .  .  . 
Then  there 's  what  you  call  your  Oxford  man- 
ner. We've  got  that,  too,  but  only  in  Boston, 
but  with  you  it's  in  the  bone.  You're  so 
darned  genteel  and  superior.  And  the  fellows 
among  you  that  are  always  explaining  Eng- 
land to  America  by  abusing  the  Oxford  man- 
ner have  got  it  worst  of  all.  An  American  don't 
like  to  say  anything  against  his  country,  even 
when  he  knows  she's  in  the  wrong.  \Mien  he 
hears  an  Englishman  criticising  England  he 
puts  it  down  as  another  example  of  his  blamed 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        125 

superciliousness.  .  .  .  You  see,  we're  a  young 
nation  and  very  sentimental,  and  don't  mind 
showing  it.  You're  an  old  people  and  a  crit- 
ical, and  you'd  rather  die  than  admit  your 
feelings.  Why,  our  business,  that  we  think  so 
much  of,  is  a  form  of  sentiment.  It's  the  big 
ideas  that  get  us,  and  we  roll  them  round  our 
tongue  and  plan  to  astonish  the  world.  Some- 
times we  get  there  and  sometimes  we  don't. 
You  pride  yourself  on  being  unbusinesslike, 
but  you  often  get  there  sooner." 

"Seems  to  me  you've  acquired  the  Oxford 
manner  yourself,  Merry  weather,"  said  Mrs. 
Lavender. 

Mr.  Malone  laughed.  "We've  all  got  a  bit 
of  it,  ever  since  Abel.  It  was  that  that  made 
Cain  mad.  But  I'm  not  going  to  blame  my 
country's  foibles,  though  I  see  them  right 
enough.  I  prefer  them  to  other  people's  sense. 
This  old  world  's  getting  too  logical,  and  you 
can't  be  happy  that  way.  Very  soon  America 
will  be  the  only  place  left  for  a  white  man,  for 
she  don't  give  a  cent  for  logic.  .  .  .  Just  look 
at  our  labour  troubles.  We  quarrel  a  bit,  but 


126        TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

we  are  never  near  the  eternal  rock-bottom 
you've  struck  in  Europe." 

Mr.  Burford  was  much  interested. 

"That's  quite  true,  but  you  can't  keep  it 
always  that  way.  Up  to  now  you've  led  the 
sheltered  life,  very  little  concerned  with  your 
neighbours  and  plenty  to  go  on  with  at  home. 
You've  been  able  to  provide  so  much  jam,  or 
the  near  prospect  of  jam,  that  you  've  kept  the 
children  quiet.  But  the  children  are  growing 
up,  remember.  What  are  you  going  to  do  when 
your  fluid  classes  solidify  and  you  bump  up 
against  the  old  questions  that  perplex  the 
rest  of  the  world.^^  You'll  be  pretty  raw  to  the 
job,  Mr.  Malone.  I've  seen  a  lot  of  America, 
and  in  ordinary  political  education  you  're  the 
most  backward  land  on  the  globe.  Your 
Labour  leaders  still  talk  the  language  of  the 
'seventies  and  'eighties.  But  that's  changing 
every  day,  and  you  've  got  to  get  busy  about 
your  education.  You  are  n't  a  peculiar  people 
any  more,  and  you  can't  shut  yourself  off 
from  the  rest  of  the  world." 

"We  are  going  to  have  a  darned  good  try,'* 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        127 

said  Mr.  Malone.  "I  don't  say  there's  not 
truth  in  your  view  —  I  think  there 's  a  lot  of 
truth.  I've  said  the  same  thing  myself,  and 
that's  why  hitherto  I  have  been  such  a  con- 
spicuous failure  in  public  life.  But  it's  going 
to  be  a  large-size  job  to  shift  America  from 
her  dug-out.  She  is  the  only  decent  conserva- 
tive left,  and  she  hates  real  change  like  hell. 
She  was  very  willing  to  fight,  but  now  she 
wants  to  get  back  to  the  farm  straightaway 
and  hammer  her  sword  into  a  ploughshare." 

"But  you're  a  business  people,"  said  Mr. 
Burford,  "and  you  must  want  to  see  the  job 
through." 

"We  never  finish  anything,"  said  Mr. 
Malone  —  "not  in  politics.  Look  at  Mexico. 
Look  at  the  progress  of  our  Reform  move- 
ment. Our  Httle  old  Constitution  was  ex- 
pressly framed  to  prevent  us  doing  anything 
drastic.  We're  all  for  compromise  and  half- 
way houses.  We're  mighty  English,  far  more 
English  than  you.  ...  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Wilson 
has  got  a  tougher  proposition  to  put  through 
than  anything  George  Washington  handled. 


128        TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

.  .  .  There's  just  a  chance  of  his  falling  down 
over  it  and  America  establishing  a  Republic.'* 

"If  you're  right,  Merry  weather,"  said  Mrs. 
Lavender,  "I'm  going  to  hustle  William  back 
to  the  States  right  now  and  take  a  hand  in  the 
fight.  What  side  are  you  on,  anyway.'^" 

"  I  'm  a  good  Republican,"  said  Mr.  Malone, 
*'but  I'm  for  Wilson.  I'm  not  going  to  put 
it  too  high,  Martha,  for  we'd  like  you  back 
with  us,  but  I  think  he's  going  to  win  out  if 
he  handles  the  thing  in  the  right  way.  There 's 
just  one  winning  ticker  for  him." 

Mr.  Malone  bit  the  end  off  his  cigar  and 
borrowed  a  match  from  Penrose  MacAndrew. 

"You've  maybe  observed,  Penrose,"  he 
said,  "that  we  Americans  are  a  profoundly 
religious  people.'* 

General  Morier  looked  startled,  and  Mrs. 
Lavender  denied  the  charge.  "  Utterly  pagan," 
she  said. 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Malone,  "you're  wrong, 
Martha.  You  're  getting  short  in  the  memory. 
We  have  fits  of  paganism,  but  we're  never 
happy  in  them.  We  know  we're  backsliders 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        129 

and  pretty  soon  we  repent.  .  .  .  We're  very 
religious,  but  it's  our  own  special  kind.  We 
are  not  interested  in  your  European  brand  of 
church.  Our  type  is  the  field  preaching,  and 
we  always  get  back  to  it.  Getting  converted 
is  our  national  pastime.  What  put  us  into  the 
war?  I  reckon  the  village  prayer  meeting,  first 
and  foremost,  and  please  God,  it's  going  to 
put  us  into  peace.  All  our  religions  that  count 
are  revivalisms,  whether  it 's  Billy  Sunday  or 
Mamie  B.  Eddy  that  professes  to  have  the 
goods.  Revivalism  is  the  key  to  the  heart  of 
America,  and  if  Mr.  Wilson 's  a  good  enough 
revivalist  he'll  win  out.  He's  got  to  make  us 
feel  that  if  we  don't  do  what  he  tells  us  we're 
way  down  on  the  level  of  the  Impenitent 
Thief." 

Mr.  Malone's  exposition  was  interrupted 
by  the  arrival  of  the  other  sight-seers.  Lord 
Linkumdoddie's  yacht  was  moored  a  little 
way  out  in  the  channel,  and  as  the  hour  of 
luncheon  had  arrived  the  party  embarked 
again  in  the  boats  and  were  rowed  towards  it. 
It  was  well  that  no  one  of  Mr.  Malone's  hear- 


130        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

ers  thought  fit  to  repeat  his  views,  for  Mrs. 
Aspenden,  whose  soul  had  been  elevated  by 
the  sight  of  Culdee  relics,  was  in  no  mood  for 
for  what  she  would  have  regarded  as  profan- 
ity. 

Lord  Linkumdoddie  was  a  man  of  sixty,  on 
whose  slim  shoulders  was  set  an  enormous 
and  beautifully  shaped  head.  He  had  a  trick 
of  smiling  secretly  to  himself  as  if  amused  by 
the  world,  and  he  spoke  little.  His  vast  for- 
tune had  no  heir,  and  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
dispensing  benefactions  so  colossal  that  the 
popular  mind  was  dulled  by  their  sheer  mag- 
nitude. He  was  reputed  a  hard  man  of  busi- 
ness and  intolerant  of  fools.  His  position  left 
him  ample  leisure,  for  he  held  the  view  that 
the  better  organised  a  business  the  less  it 
required  the  attention  of  its  head.  Travel,  the 
collection  of  old  English  furniture,  and  the 
care  of  a  weak  digestion  were  his  chief  absorp- 
tions. He  was  also  an  active  and  devout  mem- 
ber of  the  Baptist  communion. 

The  five-hundred-ton  yacht  showed  few 
marks  of  its  war  service  in  the  brilliance  of  its 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        131 

brass-work  and  the  scrupulous  whiteness  of 
its  decks.  The  large  party  packed  the  dining 
cabin,  but  through  the  open  portholes  came 
the  cool  sea  airs. 

Mrs.  Lavender  gave  Christopher  Normand 
a  summary  of  Mr.  Malone's  recent  conversa- 
tion, to  which  Lord  Linkumdoddie  listened 
with  interest.  America,  the  owner  of  the  yacht 
declared,  held  —  not  for  the  first  time  — 
the  key  of  the  situation. 

"I  like  her  for  her  slowness,"  he  said.  "No 
great  country  changes  in  a  hurry.  After  all, 
her  attitude  is  the  same  as  ours  was  a  genera- 
tion ago.  We  strove  to  keep  out  of  Conti- 
nental entanglements,  and  proclaimed  that 
all  our  interests  lay  beyond  Europe.  A  Con- 
servative dislikes  changes,  but  when  he  alters 
he  does  it  wholesale.  Look  at  the  Tory  party 
to-day.  Look  at  Britain  in  1914.  ...  I  am  not 
a  Conservative,  so  I  have  always  preferred 
change." 

"Even  industrial  revolution.'^"  asked  Mr. 
Normand. 

"Industrial  revolution  most  of  all.  I  have 


132         THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

never  worked  to  make  money,  and  I  would 
far  rather  build  up  a  sound  industry  than  big 
profits.  Up  to  now  our  whole  industrial  fabric 
has  been  preposterous,  and  I  am  glad  it's 
falling  to  bits.  If  they  take  all  my  money,  I 
can  make  more.  Thank  God,  I  'm  not  depend- 
ent on  my  bank  balance.'* 

Lady  Guidwillie,  who  had  the  misfortune 
to  depend  upon  inherited  capital,  protested. 

"You're  the  most  dangerous  man  in  the 
country,"  she  told  Lord  Linkumdoddie. 
"You're  an  adventurer,  and  don't  mind  los- 
ing your  stakes,  for  you  know  you  can  win 
them  back.  But  what  of  us  poor  people  who 
are  not  so  fortunate.'^ " 

Her  host  smiled  reassuringly.  "I  don't 
think  you  need  worry.  Lady  Guidwillie. 
There  will  be  no  downfall  of  capital  in  the 
ordinary  sense.  But  there  will  be  a  rooting-up 
of  vested  interests  in  men's  lives,  and  I  for 
one  am  glad  of  it." 

Mr.  Jonas  had  his  mouth  open  to  speak, 
when  the  attention  of  every  one  was  caught 
by  the  loud  voice  of  Mr.  Malone. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        133 

"America  is  too  antiquarian,"  he  was  say- 
ing. "That's  the  trouble.  She  sentimentahses 
too  much  about  the  past,  for  you  see  she 
has  n't  had  very  much  of  it  and  she  cherishes 
what  she's  got.  I  say  that  the  world's  bound 
to  cut  loose  from  its  antiques,  especially  as 
most  of  them  are  shams  and  come  from  War- 
dour  Street.  We  are  all  on  a  pilgrimage,  and 
it  won't  do  to  load  ourselves  up  with  every 
relic  picked  up  by  the  road  and  be  always 
stopping  to  moon  over  them.  I  'd  keep  the  old 
maps  as  a  historical  record  and  discard  the 
relics,  for  the  one's  got  some  meaning  for  the 
present  day  and  the  other's  just  junk.  Above 
all,  it's  no  good  cherishing  old  grievances." 

"Like  Ireland,"  suggested  Christopher 
Normand. 

"Like  Ireland,"  said  Mr.  Malone.  "There's 
an  awful  warning  for  you.  I'm  of  Irish  stock 
myself,  and  for  our  sins  we've  got  a  good 
many  like  me  in  the  States.  That  poor  little 
island  is  living  in  a  bogus  past  and  trying  to 
screw  some  pride  out  of  it,  while  she's  forget- 
ting to  do  anything  to  be  proud  of  right  now. 


134        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

The  ordinary  Irishman  is  ashamed  of  himself 
and  he  has  n't  the  honesty  to  admit  it.  No 
man's  any  good  unless  he  has  something  to 
swagger  about,  and  Ireland  has  n't  anything 
except  a  moth-eaten  ragbag  of  wrongs.  That's 
her  confounded  antiquarian  habit  of  mind. 
And  the  worst  of  it  is  that  this  sentimental 
grieving  is  n't  sincere.  Apart  from  a  few  poets, 
it's  only  the  stock-in-trade  of  vulgar  career- 
ists. It's  enough  to  make  a  man  sick  to  hear 
an  Irish  ward-politician  talking  about  Dark 
Rosaleen.  ...  If  America  is  too  much  of  a 
stand-patter,  there 's  a  horrid  risk  of  her  get- 
ting like  Ireland.  She  has  n't  grievances,  but 
she's  got  dislikes  and  false  sentiments,  and 
that's  just  about  as  bad.'* 

General  Morier  did  not  agree. 

"I  think  you  are  too  hard,"  he  said.  "These 
things  that  you  despise  are  very  near  the 
heart  of  every  honest  man.  The  prejudices  of 
a  nation  are  as  vital  as  its  principles,  and  I  do 
not  desire  to  see  a  completely  rational  bour- 
geois world.  Would  you  apply  your  maxim  to 
Europe  also?" 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        135 

"To  be  sure  I  would,"  said  Mr.  Malone. 
"Britain's  forgot  a  lot,  but  she's  a  deal  more 
forgetting  to  do.  Italy  has  a  fine  assortment 
of  useless  lumber  to  jettison." 

"And  France?" 

"Yes,  France  most  of  all.  Look  here.  Gen- 
eral. I  know  your  country.  I  want  to  cry  when 
I  think  of  some  of  the  things  you've  done. 
But  youVe  got  to  forget  about  your  suffer- 
ings. You're  too  big  to  be  a  Martyr  State. 
The  other  day  you  were  mad  with  Mr.  Wilson 
because  he  did  n't  run  off  straightaway  and 
look  at  your  battle-fields  and  devastated  areas. 
That  was  maybe  a  blunder  of  tact  on  the 
President's  part,  but  it's  a  worse  blunder  if 
you  make  too  much  of  your  wounds.  It  won't 
do  for  France  to  be  a  sort  of  Byron  among 
peoples,  making  a  pageant  of  her  bleeding 
heart." 

"  These  things  are  the  war,"  was  the  answer. 
"Would  you  have  us  forget  that?'* 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Malone  stoutly.  "It  would 
be  better  to  forget  it  than  to  be  always  re- 
membering it.  The  nations  have  got  a  terrific 


136        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

job  before  them,  and  they  won't  ever  make 
good  if  they're  always  thinking  about  the 
war.  The  war  has  n't  solved  any  problem  ex- 
cept the  one  —  which  side  was  the  stronger; 
and  that  does  n't  help  us  much  except  by 
clearing  the  ground.  Therefore,  I  say  we  can't 
be  always  dwelling  on  it,  and  referring  things 
back  to  it." 

Mr.  Burford  had  taken  off  his  spectacles, 
and  now  quoted,  as  if  to  himself :  "  Forgetting 
those  things  which  are  behind,  and  reaching 
forth  unto  those  things  which  are  before,  I 
press  toward  the  mark  for  the  prize." 

Mr.  Malone  warmly  approved.  "I  am  with 
Paul  there,"  he  said.  "He  spoke  horse-sense 
on  most  subjects.  And,  General,  for  your  con- 
solation, I'll  give  you  another  text:  'Instead 
of  thy  fathers  thou  shalt  have  children,  whom 
thou  may  est  make  princes  in  all  lands.' " 

As  the  rest  of  the  party  were  rowed  shore- 
ward Mrs.  Lavender  was  observed  to  be  deep 
in  meditation.  On  Christopher  Normand 
offering  her  a  penny  for  her  thoughts,  she  ex- 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        137 

plained  that  she  had  been  reflecting  upon  the 
case  of  Mr.  Malone. 

**I  never  saw  such  a  change  in  a  human 
being,"  she  said.  "It  looks  to  me  as  if  Merry- 
weather  had  got  religion." 

"Perhaps  it  is  part  of  his  training  as  Presi- 
dential candidate,"  said  Mr.  Normand,  and 
was  rebuked  for  his  flippancy. 


VIII 

The  Minister  of  the  Parish  comes  to  dinner.  He  warns 
Mr.  Jona^  of  the  brittleness  of  all  Democracies,  and  in 
turn  is  'presented  with  the  just  demands  of  the  British 
People.  Mr.  Burford  pleads  for  an  Aristocracy. 

That  evening  before  dinner  Mrs.  Lament  felt 
happy,  and  she  communicated  her  mood  to 
her  husband  through  the  open  door  of  his 
dressing-room. 

"I  really  think,"  she  said,  "that  this  little 
party  has  been  a  success.  Everybody  was  in  a 
bad  humour  at  the  start,  but  now  everybody 
has  begun  to  like  each  other.  I  can't  help  feel- 
ing, Arthur,  that  if  such  very  different  people 
can  come  to  an  understanding,  the  country 
must  be  able  to  settle  its  worst  troubles.  Don't 
you  think  so,  dear.^^'* 

Colonel  Lamont,  busied  with  his  tie,  had 
his  mind  on  other  things.  "  Macmillan 's  an 
infernal  ruffian.  I  asked  him  to  dine  to-night 
and  he  has  never  answered.  It 's  most  annoy- 
ing, Kathie,  with  Jonas  leaving  to-morrow. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        139 

I  was  most  anxious  that  the  two  should  meet. 
There  are  times  when  a  passion  for  fishing 
becomes  a  positive  vice." 

"And,  Arthur,"  continued  Mrs.  Lamont, 
"I  can't  think  what  has  come  over  PhylHs. 
She's  a  new  creature.  She  has  recovered  all 
her  interest  in  life.  I  think  it  is  Mr.  Burford, 
for  they  are  always  together.  I  wonder  if  I 
should  do  anything  about  it.  She  has  no 
mother  and  I  feel  it  is  my  duty  to  look  after 
her." 

"It  would  be  a  dashed  good  thing,"  said 
Colonel  Lamont,  as  he  brushed  his  thinning 
hair,  "if  they  took  a  fancy  to  each  other. 
He 's  a  most  capital  good  chap.  I  feel  happier 
for  merely  looking  at  him.  I  only  wish  he'd 
talk  more.  .  .  .  Confound  Macmillan!  That's 
another  fellow  I  wanted  him  to  meet." 

But  at  dinner  the  erring  minister  appeared. 
He  had  been  away,  he  said,  when  Colonel 
Lamont  sent  his  note,  and  had  only  received 
it  an  hour  ago.  He  was  not  apologetic;  rather 
it  seemed  that  an  apology  was  due  to  one  who, 
with  the  Lith  in  perfect  order,  had  been  de- 


140        TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

prived  of  an  evening's  fishing.  As  he  sat  at 
table  opposite  Lady  Sevenoaks  and  between 
his  hostess  and  Mrs.  Lavender,  his  figure  was 
hke  some  stubborn  furze  bush  which  had 
strayed  into  a  parterre.  He  was  more  Hke  a 
deep-sea  skipper  than  ever,  as  his  great  grey 
eyes  took  in  the  scene  before  him.  So  massive 
was  his  air  that  even  the  substantial  figure  of 
Sir  William  Jacob  seemed  weedy  by  compari- 
son, and  so  rugged  his  face  that  the  homely 
countenance  of  Mr.  Jonas  seemed  almost 
refined. 

"Macmillan,"  said  his  host,  "you've 
missed  a  lot  of  interesting  people  by  your 
confounded  obstinacy.  You  should  have  been 
dining  here  every  night.  We  outlandish  folk 
don't  often  get  a  chance  of  improving  our 
minds.  You  were  a  fool  to  miss  Morier.  And 
Malone.  We've  had  some  uncommonly  good 
talk." 

The  minister  asked  what  they  had  talked 
about,  and  Lady  Sevenoaks  replied. 

"Everything  on  earth,  and  we  came  to  all 
kinds  of  contradictory  conclusions.  We  were 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP       141 

told  that  we  must  preserve  the  historic  state, 
and  at  the  same  time  that  we  must  forget 
most  of  its  history.  Mr.  Normand  does  n*t 
much  believe  in  self-government  for  the  na- 
tion, but  he  would  like  to  see  it  in  industry. 
We  are  to  be  more  fervent  nationalists  than 
ever,  but  to  give  up  most  of  our  national 
rights  to  an  International  League.  The  strik- 
ers who  want  to  hold  up  the  country  are  not 
Bolsheviks,  but  Cobden  and  his  poor  old 
middle-class  friends  were  the  worst  kind.  We 
must  scrap  all  mediaeval  rubbish,  and  we 
must  n't  scrap  it,  because  it 's  the  most  valu- 
able stuff  we've  got.  (That  was  your  own 
contribution  in  your  sermon,  I  think.)  The 
working-man  is  the  only  real  Conservative, 
and  the  only  real  Radical.  We  must  n't  speak 
about  classes,  for  there  is  only  one  class  that 
counts  and  that's  the  working  class,  and  it's 
not  a  class,  Mr.  Jonas  says.  We  all  agreed  in 
abominating  political  parties,  but  Mr.  Strath- 
bungo  convinced  us  that  they  were  much 
more  important  than  political  ideals,  with  the 
exception   of   the  confiscation   of   Highland 


142        TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

land,  which  he  thought  more  important  than 
the  CoaHtion.  ...  I  think  that's  a  fair 
summary." 

"Lamont,"  said  Mr.  Macmillan,  "I  am 
sorry  I  stuck  to  the  Lith.  I  ought  to  have  been 
here.  You  seem  to  have  talked  uncommon 
good  sense." 

"Glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  the  host. 
"Lady  Sevenoaks  makes  it  sound  rather 
foolish." 

"Not  a  bit.  You've  pulled  all  the  contra- 
dictions into  the  light  of  day.  That's  what 
we  want.  Politics  are  a  collection  of  views, 
most  of  them  contradictory  and  nearly  all  of 
them  true.  Statesmanship  means  admitting 
the  contradictions  and  paying  due  respect  to 
the  half-truths  and  trying  to  harmonise  them. 
The  fool  seizes  on  a  half-truth  and  exaggerates 
it,  and  pretends  it  is  the  whole  truth  and  the 
only  truth.  The  first  step  in  wisdom  is  to  keep 
your  balance  and  not  take  sides.  You  seem  to 
have  followed  that  rule." 

"\Miat  are  your  politics?'*  Mr.  WjT)er 
asked. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP       143 

*'None,"  was  the  answer.  "I  voted  for 
Strathbungo  because  I  liked  his  candour.  I'll 
vote  against  him  as  soon  as  he  starts  talking 
nonsense  about  free  fishing.  That  subject  de- 
fines my  politics.  I  want  everybody  to  have 
a  chance  of  fishing  that  likes  it,  but  I  want  the 
fish  to  be  there  to  be  caught.  In  the  same  way 
I  want  every  man  in  these  islands  to  have  a 
better  life,  more  comfort  and  more  leisure, 
but  I  also  want  the  wealth  to  be  there  which 
can  give  him  these  things." 

Mr.  Jonas  seemed  struck  by  an  illustration 
which  his  recent  experience  on  the  Lith  had 
enabled  him  to  appreciate.  He  also  knew  a 
man  when  he  saw  him,  and  Mr.  Macmillan's 
steady  eyes  and  sagacious  brow  were  very 
impressive. 

"We've  all  been  talking  too  much,"  he 
said.  "I'd  like  to  'ear  a  fresh  voice.  What's 
your  view  of  the  situation.''" 

The  minister  laughed.  "I'm  not  a  leader- 
writer  to  be  able  to  give  you  that.  I'm  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel,  and  I'm  concerned 
with  bigger  things  than  the  whirligigs  of  poli- 


144        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

tics.  But  up  here  I've  time  to  read  and  think, 
and  I've  studied  history,  so  I've  certain 
views.  You're  a  Labour  leader  and  a  very 
powerful  man,  Mr.  Jonas.  You're  accustomed 
to  be  spoken  about  respectfully  in  the  papers 
and  in  Parliament.  Well,  I'm  not  respectful 
by  nature.  You  remember  the  story  of  the 
Scots  girl  who  complained  of  a  shy  lover  that 
he  was  'senselessly  ceevil.'  You  won't  get  any 
senseless  civility  from  me." 

"Go  ahead,"  said  Mr.  Jonas.  "  Jimmie  and 
I  never  mind  plain  speaking." 

"Well,"  said  the  minister,  "I  don't  hke  the 
threats  that  your  fellows  use.  Miners  and  rail- 
waymen  and  transport  workers,  when  they 
have  a  grievance,  get  up  on  their  hind  legs 
and  warn  the  country  that  they  have  the 
power  and  mean  to  use  it.  That's  folly.  In 
the  first  place,  they  haven't  the  power. 
They  're  only  a  fraction  of  the  nation,  and  if 
they  fight  in  an  unjust  cause  the  nation  will 
beat  them.  It  may  take  years,  but  they  '11  be 
beaten  in  the  end.  The  workers  have  never 
won,  and  never  will  win,  unless  they  're  in  the 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP       145 

right.  Why  this  stupid  bluster?  Bluster  means 
smugness,  remember.  What  madness  possessed 
you  in  the  Coal  Commission  to  entrust  your 
case  to  advertising  journalists.''  You  did  n't 
come  out  of  it  extra  well.  The  ordinary  Briton 
rather  prefers  a  stupid  coal-master  to  those 
glib  gentlemen.  And  he  enormously  prefers 
Lord  Durham.  .  .  .  Secondly,  a  settlement  by 
force,  even  if  it  succeeded,  would  be  no  real 
settlement.  It 's  sheer  Prussianism  to  think  it 
would,  and  the  sooner  your  fellows  learn  the 
lesson  of  the  war  the  better." 

Mr.  Jonas  nodded.  "I'm  with  you  there. 
But  it's  ill  'olding  angry  and  ignorant  men. 
I  grant  you  that  the  threat  business  is  wrong." 

"The  next  thing  I  have  to  say  is  that  it's 
time  you  stopped  gloating  over  the  triumph 
of  Democracy.  You  talk  as  if  it  were  a  thing 
inherent  in  nature,  with  all  the  forces  of 
nature  working  on  its  side.  You're  in  error. 
It's  a  fine  thing,  but  it's  the  most  brittle 
thing  on  earth,  and  it  can  be  maintained  only 
by  constant  watchfulness  and  sacrifice.  Cast 
your  mind  back  in  history  and  consider  how 


146        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

short  has  been  the  reign  of  Democracy  com- 
pared with  that  of  any  other  form  of  govern- 
ment. It  began  a  long  time  ago,  but  it's  never 
had  more  than  the  briefest  run.  Man,  do  you 
remember  how  somebody  in  Herodotus  spoke 
of  it  hke  a  lover  as  being  lovely  in  the  very 
sound  of  its  name,  and  twenty-five  years  later 
you  had  a  popular  Athenian  statesman  — 
popular,  I  say  —  declaring  it  was  hardly 
worth  discussion  since  it  was  'acknowledged 
insanity'?  You  will  say  that  that  was  long 
ago,  and  that  the  world  is  safer  for  it  now. 
It  is  n't.  Democracy  had  a  better  chance  of 
life  in  the  little  State.  In  our  dense  modern 
world  we  can  only  exist  by  the  help  of  law 
and  order,  and  you  get  order  more  easily  — 
I  don't  say  better,  but  more  easily  —  from 
the  autocrat." 

Mr.  Jonas  again  assented.  *'I'm  not  deny- 
ing that.  I'm  a  student  of  'ist'ry  myself." 

"Thirdly  and  lastly,"  said  Mr.  Macmillan, 
*'go  canny  with  liberty.  It's  by  no  means  the 
same  thing  as  Democracy,  but  in  this  country 
we  want  both.  We  must  treat  it  reverently, 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        147 

for  it  also  is  a  delicate  plant.  I  think,"  he 
added,  looking  round  the  company,  "that 
liberty  is  hke  the  car  of  the  goddess  Nerthus, 
which  once  a  year  was  brought  from  its  island 
home  to  travel  among  the  German  tribes. 
Wherever  it  went,  it  left  increase  and  happi- 
ness and  peace,  but  no  man  was  allowed  to  lay 
hand  upon  it.  .  .  .  Liberty  is  too  precious  a 
thing  for  fools  to  paw." 

The  minister's  remarks  had  revived  Mrs. 
Lamont's  fears,  now  for  some  days  dormant. 

"Are  you  afraid  of  the  future,  then,  Mr. 
Macmillan.?"  she  asked. 

He  laughed.  "I  don't  think  I'm  afraid  of 
anything  except  a  prosecution  for  heresy  in 
the  Courts  of  my  Church." 

Mrs.  Aspenden  sighed,  as  if  she  thought  that 
a  consummation  to  be  devoutly  wished  for. 
Mr.  Macmillan  was  not  her  idea  of  a  priest. 

"  But  Bolshevism.'* "  quavered  Mrs.  Lamont. 

"Oh,  Bolshevism!  I  regard  the  mild  British 
variety  as  an  inoculation  against  the  danger- 
ous foreign  kind.  We  would  n't  be  human  if 
we  did  n't  have  a  dose  of  it." 


148        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

Mr.  Jonas  was  looking  curiously  at  the 
speaker,  and  their  eyes  met.  Something  in 
each  pleased  the  other,  and  they  smiled  with 
that  sudden  understanding  that  is  occasion- 
ally arrived  at  between  men  who  have  but 
newly  met. 

"I  apologise,  Lamont,"  said  Mr.  Mac- 
millan.  "I've  been  talking  as  if  I  were  in  the 
pulpit.  I  did  n't  come  here  to  talk,  but  to 
listen.  I  want  instruction,  since  I  have  been 
foolish  enough  to  go  fishing  all  the  week.  .  .  . 
Mr.  Jonas,  tell  a  lone  country  minister  what 
you  and  your  friends  have  come  forth  for  to 
seek." 

Mr.  Jonas,  nothing  loath,  leaned  his  elbows 
on  the  table,  as  was  his  habit,  and  looked 
round  the  company.  "I'm  glad  to  'ave  the 
chance,"  he  said,  "more  especially  as  we've 
been  playing  round  so  many  subjects  without 
settling  anything.  I'm  not  one  that  thinks 
any  reform  is  a  simple  job,  but  it's  my  busi- 
ness to  study  the  people  and  I  can  tell  you 
what  they  mean  to  'ave  in  some  form  or 
other." 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        149 

"Mean  to  have?"  queried  Mr.  Macmillan. 

"  Yes,  mean  to  'ave.  That  is  n't  a  threat, 
because  we  know  we  've  right  on  our  side  and 
can  convince  any  honest  man.  ...  I'll  put  it 
this  way.  We've  'ad  a  great  war,  and  it's 
been  a  war  of  the  rank  and  file.  We  'ave  n't 
'ad  any  Napoleon  playing  skittles  with  the 
enemy  because  of  his  pecuhar  genius.  We've 
'ad  good  generals,  but  the  folk  that  did  the 
job  were  just  the  ordinary  British  soldiers 
out  of  every  class  and  calling.  The  war's  been 
a  glorification  of  the  average  man." 

"I  agree,"  said  Mr.  Macmillan,  "provided 
you  admit  he  is  n't  only  the  working-man." 

"True  enough,  but  the  workers  'ave  the 
biggest  numbers  and  therefore  they  'ave  a 
big  claim  to  be  'card.  They  want  to  know 
what  the  war  has  been  fought  for.  They've 
been  defending  England,  but  England's  got 
to  be  worth  their  while  to  defend.  They've 
cleaned  up  Prussianism  abroad,  and  they 
are  n't  coming  back  to  it  at  'ome.  They  want 
a  bigger  share  of  England  —  more  leisure, 
more  chances,  better  wages,  and  a  better  Hfe." 


150        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

"You  are  aware,"  said  Sir  William  Jacob, 
*'tliat,  according  to  a  recent  calculation, 
seventy-five  per  cent  of  the  total  product  of 
our  wealth  is  distributed  among  the  workers." 

"I  am  aware,  and  it  does  n't  alter  the  argu- 
ment. I  am  not  wanting  a  levelling  down  of 
incomes  all  round,  for  I  know  very  well  that 
it  would  only  give  each  man  a  shilling  or  two 
more.  What  we  are  asking  for  is  a  better  sys- 
tem. You*re  not  getting  the  best  value  out  of 
men  as  things  stand  now.  We  want  far  more 
production,  but  you  won't  'ave  it  by  merely 
begging  the  men  to  work  'arder.  We  want  a 
new  deal.  There  would  be  no  limitation  of 
output,  no  stupid  Union  restrictions,  if  every 
man  had  a  direct  interest  in  the  thing  and 
knew  he  wasn't  slaving  to  fill  idle  men's 
pockets." 

"I  don't  beheve  in  profit-sharing,"  said 
Lady  Sevenoaks.  "My  father  tried  it  and  it 
led  to  endless  bickering  and  suspicion." 

"No  more  do  I,"  said  Mr.  Jonas;  "not  the 
ordinary  kind.  The  working-man  wants  to 
know  'ow  the  profits  are  arrived  at  and  to  'ave 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        151 

a  say  himself  in  the  distribution.  To  dole  out 
a  few  'alf pence  extra  and  ask  him  to  be  grate- 
ful for  them  is  just  Prussianism.  To  tell  him 
to  trust  his  employer  who  knows  the  business 
better  than  'im  is  also  Prussianism.  He  is  not 
going  to  'ave  any  of  it,  and  I  '11  tell  you  why. 
Because  the  war  'as  made  him  conscious  for 
the  first  time  that  he  is  a  free  man. 

"I'll  put  it  this  way,"  he  continued. 
*' There  are  just  the  three  things  in  industry 
—  capital,  management,  and  labour.  Capital 
is  necessary,  but  not  in  the  same  way  as  the 
others.  It's  like  the  lubricating  oil  in  a  ma- 
chine. We  need  it  and  we  must  buy  it  at  a  fair 
price.  I  am  for  giving  capital  an  honest  return 
and  a  safe  return.  Beyond  that  I  'd  divide  the 
profits  between  labour  and  management.  .  .  . 
Now,  mark  this.  Labour  has  an  uncommon 
good  notion  of  the  real  expert  and  it  is  n't 
likely  to  stint  him.  It  knows  that  good  man- 
agement is  life  and  death  to  it  and  it  will  pay 
a  big  price  for  it.  But  it  wants  to  know  at  the 
same  time  that  the  money  is  n't  being  wasted 
in  order  to  let  some  fat  old  Jew  keep  ten  motor 


152        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

cars.  .  .  .  Now,  if  you  cut  down  the  lifeless 
material  thing,  capital,  to  its  fair  price  and 
give  the  sporting  chance  of  profits  to  the  liv- 
ing things,  management  and  labour,  and  let 
labour  also  have  a  say  in  its  management, 
you'll  do  two  things.  You'll  lay  suspicion, 
which  is  always  'alf  the  trouble,  and  you'll 
give  the  working-man  an  incentive  to  put  his 
back  into  his  job,  for  he'll  know  that  he  is 
earning  profits  only  for  himself  and  his  nom- 
inees." 

Christopher  Normand  approved. 

"But  how  are  you  going  to  work  nation- 
alisation into  a  scheme  like  that.''"  he  asked. 
*'The  other  day  I  saw  in  the  pai>ers  that 
you  were  clamouring  to  nationalise  the  mines 
and  the  railways,  and,  I  believe,  shipping 
also.  You  say  the  working-man  wants  the 
best  management  and  is  prepared  to  pay 
high  for  it,  because  he  knows  his  own  com- 
fort depends  on  it.  But  he  won't  be  able 
to  do  that  if  his  industry  is  nationalised. 
His  managers  will  be  Civil  Service  officials, 
not  the  best  men  bought  in  the  open  market. 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        153 

And  lie  won't  have  direct  self-government 
in  his  work,  for  he  '11  have  to  share  his  direc- 
tion of  it  with  every  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry 
who  has  a  vote." 

Mr.  Jonas  smiled  ruefully. 

"Rome  was  n't  built  in  a  day,  Mr.  Nor- 
mand.  I  'm  not  much  in  love  with  national- 
isation. There  was  a  time  when  I  was  young 
and  callow  and  wanted  every  blessed  tiling 
made  a  department  of  the  State.  Now  I  've 
lost  my  confidence  in  any  Civil  Service.  We 
can  improve  on  the  present  one,  but  we'll 
never  get  the  brains  and  the  ginger  into  it 
that  a  private  show  can  command.  But 
nationalisation  might  be  a  good  first  step. 
The  trouble  in  the  other  way  is  to  know  'ow 
to  begin.  You  want  to  get  the  smaller  shops 
grouped  together  before  you  can  start,  and 
that  would  take  a  bit  of  doing.  If  the  State 
took  over  a  big  industry,  that  would  'appen 
automatically,  and  you'd  also  get  the  ques- 
tion of  the  future  of  its  capital  settled  right 
away.  Then  a  little  later,  when  we've  found 
our  balance,  we'll  take  the  next  step." 


154        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

Mr.  Macmillan  had  been  listening  intently 
with  a  somewhat  grave  face. 

"You  talk  of  machinery,  Mr.  Jonas,  and  I 
dare  say  you  talk  good  sense.  Heaven  knows 
I  don't  quarrel  with  the  things  you  aim  at. 
We  can't  pick  up  again  the  ragged  mantle  of 
1914.  But  is  it  not  possible  that  you  think 
too  much  of  machinery?  I  am  a  minister  of 
Christ  and  I  have  another  question  to  ask. 
The  workers  want  more  leisure,  but  what  will 
they  do  with  it?  They  want  a  share  in  the 
government  of  their  own  work,  but  have  you 
made  sure  that  they  have  the  qualities  for 
government?  You  say  truly  that  the  war  was 
won  by  the  ordinary  man,  but  it  was  won 
by  his  spirit.  If  he  is  going  to  win  the  peace, 
you  dare  not  forget  that  spirit.  The  finest 
machinery  on  earth  will  not  save  his  soul." 

There  was  a  slight  hush,  for  the  gravity  of 
the  minister's  voice  had  brought  some  subtle 
change  into  the  atmosphere.  Then  Mr.  Bur- 
ford  spoke. 

"The  only  hope  for  Democracy  is  to  make 
it  an  aristocracy." 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        155 

"That  is  one  of  the  most  sensible  remarks 
I've  ever  heard,"  said  Mr.  Macmillan,  as  the 
party,  on  Colonel  Lamont's  advice,  moved 
ont  of  doors  into  the  sweet-scented  night. 


IX 

In  which  Mr.  Burford  sees  visions,  and  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Macmillan  propounds  a  parable. 

The  lawns,  which  dropped  into  slopes  of 
heather  and  then  into  the  meadows  of  the 
valley,  lay  golden  under  a  moon  three  quar- 
ters full.  The  stream  was  outlined  in  long 
curves  of  light,  and  the  sea  beyond  was  like  a 
sheet  of  crisped  metal.  The  mainland  hills 
were  only  clouds,  but  in  the  near  and  middle 
distances  every  object  stood  out  sharp  in  a 
monotone  of  chrysoprase.  Wafts  of  rich  scents 
—  hawthorn  and  young  grass  and  bog-myrtle 
and  pine  —  drifted  up  from  below,  and  ever 
and  again  a  light  wind  would  bring  the  deli- 
cate saltness  of  the  sea.  Somewhere  far  off  a 
voice  was  singing,  and  a  curlew  cried  from  the 
hill  pastures. 

"This  is  magic,"  said  Mrs.  Aspenden,  as 
she  sank  into  one  of  the  wicker  chairs  placed 
on  the  promontory  of  lawn  below  the  terrace. 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        157 

*'This  is  the  true  Island  of  Sheep.  I  could 
believe  it  was  Tir-nan-og  itself." 

Mr.  Burford  had  taken  off  his  spectacles, 
and  by  a  common  impulse  the  eyes  of  the 
party  were  fixed  on  him.  He  had  spoken  little 
since  his  arrival,  but  had  greatly  endeared 
himself  to  everybody,  and  Mrs.  Lavender 
hushed  Lady  Sevenoaks,  who  was  about  to 
question  Mrs.  Aspenden.  Lady  Sevenoaks 
cordially  detested  Celtic  mysticism. 

"We  want  to  hear  what  you  have  to  say, 
Mr.  Burford,"  said  Mr.  Macmillan.  "If  you 
folk  cannot  carry  us  beyond  machinery  you 
have  nothing  to  give  us.  I  know  little  of  eco- 
nomics, but  one  thing  I  know.  I  am  a  son  of  a 
crofter,  I  was  long  a  minister  in  city  slums, 
I  am  a  little  of  a  scholar,  and  I  have  served  for 
years  with  my  fellows  under  the  shadow  of 
death.  I  claim  therefore  to  know  something 
of  the  human  heart.  Believe  me,  man  will 
never  live  by  bread  alone.  If  we  are  to  make 
this  earth  of  ours  a  better  habitation  we  must 
first  purify  our  spirit."  Looking  round,  he 
quoted  some  lines  of  Coleridge: 


158        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

"Would  we  aught  behold  of  higher  worth 
Than  the  inanimate  cold  world  allowed 
To  the  poor  loveless  ever-anxious  crowd. 
Ah!  from  the  soul  itself  must  issue  forth 
A  light,  a  glory,  a  fair  luminous  cloud 
Enveloping  the  earth." 

Mr.  Burford  spoke  —  rather  slowly  at  first, 
like  one  without  dogma  and  feehng  vaguely 
towards  truth.  BUs  soft  pleasant  burr  intensi- 
fied his  air  of  hesitation. 

"I  think  we  are  at  the  crossroads,"  he  said. 
"I  agree  with  all  that  Dan  says  about  what 
the  people  want.  But  I  think  they  are  asking 
too  little.  They  must  have  more,  and  if  they 
do  not  get  the  one  thing  more  they  have  got 
nothing.  I  ask  for  the  workers  something  far 
bigger  than  ordinary  wages  and  power.  I 
want  them  to  have  the  wages  of  the  spirit  and 
power  over  their  own  souls. 

"This  is  the  way  I  look  at  it,"  he  went  on. 
"Every  industry  is  asking  for  a  fresh  deal  and 
each  has  a  certain  amount  of  right  on  its  side. 
The  miners  have  their  claims,  and  the  railway 
men,  and  so  forth,  and  they  make  it  a  point 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        159 

of  honour  to  carry  them  intact.  That  would 
be  well  enough  if  the  whole  country  were 
miners  or  railway  men,  and  if  a  careful 
Heaven  had  provided  a  safe  market  for  the 
results  of  their  work.  But  presently  other 
industries  will  get  anxious  and  follow  their 
example,  and  each  will  be  able  to  make  out  a 
good  case  for  itself  —  if  it  stood  alone.  But 
the  sum  of  these  good  cases  is  a  bad  case.  Coal 
becomes  too  dear  and  freights  too  high  for 
other  industries  to  work  at  a  profit;  the  cost 
of  living  soars  up,  so  that  the  men  who  have 
got  what  they  ask  find  that  it  does  n't  give 
them  what  they  expected,  and  they  ask  more. 
Then  the  whole  economic  fabric  cracks,  for 
the  different  parts  of  it  have  forgotten  their 
interdependence,  and  the  result  is  ruin." 

"It  needn't  be  that,  Jimmie,"  said  Mr. 
Jonas,  "if  they'll  'ave  common  sense." 

"  Yes,  common  sense.  A  sense  of  community. 
And  that  means  that  each  man  has  to  let 
live  as  well  as  Hve,  and  think  of  others  than 
himself  and  his  fellow  unionists.  He  must  take 
the  big  view  as  a  citizen.  How  are  you  going 


160        TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

to  get  that,  Dan?  .  .  .  Let  me  put  it  in  an- 
other way.  Supposing  this  competition  in  de- 
mands did  n't  knock  the  bottom  out  of  our 
wealth,  it  would  still  be  an  accursed  thing. 
What  are  they  demanding?  You  say,  the 
means  to  a  better  life.  But  what  kind  of  a 
better  life  is  a  man  to  have  if  he  thinks  only 
of  making  tight  bargains?  He  learns  to  have 
no  pride  in  his  craft,  and  no  care  for  it  except 
its  cash  value.  He  has  more  leisure,  but  he  is 
a  poorer  creature  than  he  was  before,  and  he 
has  nothing  to  fill  his  leisure  with.  He  has 
more  money,  but  no  better  things  to  spend  it 
on.  Why,  man,  if  you  improve  his  material 
condition  without  giving  him  something  to 
work  towards,  his  latter  end  will  be  worse 
than  the  beginning.  You  are  sending  him  with 
a  shove  down  the  road  to  savagery.  ...  At 
any  cost  you  must  give  him  the  larger  view, 
if  he  is  to  make  anything  of  the  victory  he 
wins.'* 

Mr.  Burford  had  lost  his  shyness  and  his 
voice  held  the  little  group  in  the  moonlight. 

"Look  at  the  war,"  he  said.  "There  the 


TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        161 

workers  of  Britain  took  the  larger  view.  They 
did  n't  believe  the  lie  that  patriotism  mat- 
tered nothing  to  them,  and  that  they  would 
be  as  well  off  under  the  Kaiser.  They  did  n't 
fight  for  themselves  only,  but  for  the  little 
nations  that  were  being  butchered.  And  when 
they  fought  for  themselves  it  was  for  the 
greatness  in  them.  They  had  a  bad  enough 
time  in  the  real  England,  but  they  were  willing 
to  fight  for  an  ideal  England  that  the  dullest 
reverenced.  They  knew,  though  they  never 
said  it,  that  any  pride  of  manhood  that  was 
left  to  them,  any  liberty,  any  hope,  could  be 
preserved  only  by  sacrifice.  And  they  made 
the  sacrifice.  .  .  .  What  we  have  to  learn  is 
that  the  war  is  not  over  and  never  will  be 
over,  and  that  no  victory  can  be  maintained 
except  by  sacrifice.  Every  man  and  woman  in 
this  land  must  learn  it." 

"I  think  I  see,"  said  Phyllis  softly.  "We 
must  give  ourselves  to  peace  as  whole-heart- 
edly as  we  gave  ourselves  to  war.  In  the  war 
the  unhappy,  restless  people  were  the  profit- 
eers and  embusques  and  pacifists,  not  the  First 


162        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

and  Second  Hundred  Thousand.  Now  our 
pessimists  are  those  who  accept  change,  but 
won't  face  up  to  paying  the  price." 

"I  hope  that  some  of  us  do,"  said  Lady 
Guidwilhe.  "I  am  old  and  I  haven't  much 
left  to  care  for,  but  they  can  have  it  all  if  it's 
going  to  prevent  the  war  being  fought  in  vain. 
I  think  that  is  true  of  my  class." 

The  word  annoyed  Mr.  Wyper,  and  he 
asked,  "What  class?"  He  was  told,  "Old- 
fashioned  women  who  have  no  boys  left,"  in 
a  tone  so  gentle  that  he  regretted  having 
spoken. 

"Nearly  all  my  pals  have  been  killed,"  said 
Mr.  Maldwin.  "It's  a  pretty  empty  world 
nowadays,  and  there's  nothing  for  fellows 
like  me  to  do  except  to  make  the  best  of  what 
remains.  That 's  what  we  've  been  spared  from 
the  Boche  bullets  for.  I'd  be  glad  to  chuck 
everything  I  have  into  the  common  stock  if  it 
would  help  the  cause  my  pals  died  for.  But 
we  are  puzzled,  Mr.  Burford.  We  want  to 
help,  and  here  come  the  Labour  men  with  a 
big  stick  shouting  that  they  are  masters  and 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        163 

are  going  to  have  what  they  jolly  well  ask. 
That's  bad  business,  just  when  we  ought  to 
get  together  and  hammer  out  a  decent  plan." 

**Ah,  you  misunderstand  them,"  said  Mr. 
Burford.  "They're  only  puzzled  like  you. 
The  ordinary  man  is  a  left-handed  chap  and 
he's  apt  to  have  left-handed  leaders.  The 
man  who  roars  about  his  rights  does  n't  mean 
that  he  wants  to  trample  on  everybody  else's. 
He  only  roars  loud  to  get  a  hearing.  Don't 
you  believe  that  the  idealism  we  saw  in  the 
war  is  dead  in  peace.  I  know  the  working-man 
better  than  his  Union  officials  —  better  than 
you,  Dan.  He's  a  bigger  chap  than  the  men 
that  claim  to  speak  for  him.  He's  sane  and 
he's  just,  and,  if  you  give  him  half  a  chance, 
he  has  imagination.  Why,  the  Englishman 
has  far  more  j)oetry  in  him  than  the  Celt, 
only  he  has  n't  got  it  at  the  end  of  his  tongue. 
You  must  dig  deep  down  to  find  it.  And  he's 
got  more  humour  than  any  race  on  earth,  and 
that  will  be  his  salvation." 

*' Humour!  yes,"  said  Mr.  Normand;  and 
he  quoted  as  if  to  himself  the  words  of  Burke, 


164        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

*'The  ancient  and  inbred  integrity,  honesty, 
good-nature,  and  good-humour  of  the  people 
of  England." 

"He  hasn't  had  many  chances,"  Mr.  Bur- 
ford  went  on.  "And  now  he  wants  to  have 
every  chance  that 's  going.  He  wants  to  come 
into  his  heritage  —  all  of  it.  We  have  to  keep 
him  up  to  that,  and,  like  in  the  fairy  tale, 
to  see  that  he  does  n't  get  the  jewels  without 
the  eye-salve.  Thank  God,  at  the  bottom  of 
his  heart  he  wants  the  best  things.  You  folk, 
to  whom  books  have  been  a  commonplace 
ever  since  you  can  remember,  and  who  have 
had  your  education  provided  for  you  like 
regular  meals,  don't  know  the  hunger  in  poor 
men  for  these  despised  privileges.  There's 
only  one  key  to  all  our  problems  to-day,  and 
that  is  to  give  the  workers  the  same  treasures 
of  knowledge  that  hitherto  have  belonged 
only  to  the  few.  Then  you  will  make  our 
Democracy  safe  for  the  world,  for  you  will 
have  made  it  an  aristocracy." 

Mr.  Macmillan  nodded.  "Right,"  he  said; 
"but  don't  let  us  forget  what  Dr.  Johnson 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        165 

said  about  education  in  Scotland.  He  said  it 
was  like  the  ration  of  food  in  a  beleaguered 
city  —  everybody  had  a  little,  but  nobody 
had  enough  to  make  a  square  meal." 

"It's  a  square  meal  we're  going  to  give," 
said  Mr.  Burford.  "He  won't  be  content  with 
less.  Bless  him  for  his  exorbitant  demands. 
We  have  to  train  him  to  take  the  long  view 
and  to  have  the  means  of  making  out  of  better 
economic  conditions  a  better  life.  We  have 
to  train  him  to  govern  himself  and  his  indus- 
try, and  to  produce  leaders  that  can  lead  and 
ministers  that  can  administer.  In  a  year  or 
two  most  likely  there  will  be  a  Labour  Gov- 
ernment in  power,  and  .we  have  to  make  cer- 
tain that  it  will  be  a  wise  Government.  I 
think  all  that  can  be  done,  because  the 
worker  is  going  to  meet  you  halfway.  Aye, 
and  more  than  halfway.  You  see,  at  bottom 
he  is  very  humble.  You  remember  Bunyan, 
*I  have  known  many  labouring  men  that 
have  got  good  estates  in  this  Valley  of  Hu- 
miliation.' .  .  .  You  don't  know  the  rare 
material  there  is  in  this  old  country.  I  have 


166        TEE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

been  up  and  down  among  ordinary  folk  for 
years,  and  I  can  tell  what  is  in  their  hearts. 
There  was  a  time  when  they  cried  for  noth- 
ing but  education  in  economics,  because  they 
were  still  feeling  their  way  to  the  first  stage  in 
a  new  life.  But  they  are  past  that  now.  They 
don't  want  only  to  breed  Labour  leaders  with 
a  smattering  of  political  economy,  for  they 
have  begun  to  put  that  science  in  its  proper 
place  in  the  scheme  of  things.  And  they  don't 
want  only  technical  education  to  help  them 
to  a  better-paid  job.  They  leave  that  cry  to 
the  Chambers  of  Commerce  and  the  employ- 
ers. They  want  nothing  less  than  the  whole 
treasure-house  of  knowledge,  everything  that 
makes  what  we  call  an  educated  man. 

*'I  tell  you"  —  and  the  speaker's  voice 
warmed  —  *'I  tell  you  that  I  have  known 
poor  men  who  spent  their  evenings  with 
Plato  and  their  scanty  holidays  with  the 
great  poets.  There's  a  thirst  abroad,  a  divine 
thirst,  and  the  quenching  of  it  is  the  finest 
task  before  us.  Give  the  worker  all  the  tech- 
nical training  he  wants,  but  don't  deny  him 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        167 

the  humanities,  for  without  them  he  can  never 
be  a  citizen.  .  .  .  Think  of  what  you  can  make 
of  him.  Not  culture  in  the  trashy  sense,  but 
the  wise  mind  and  the  keen  spirit.  He  Hves 
close  to  reahty,  so  you  need  n't  fear  that  he 
will  become  a  pedant.  You  will  make  your 
academies  better  places,  for  you  will  let  the 
winds  of  the  world  blow  through  them  when 
you  open  them  to  the  Many  instead  of  the 
Few,  and  you  will  make  a  great  nation,  for 
the  Many  will  be  also  the  Best." 

"You  will  get,"  said  Mr.  Normand,  "what 
Falkland  described,  *a  College  situate  in  a 
purer  air.'" 

"I'm  not  dreaming,"  said  Mr.  Burford. 
"I  'm  an  optimist  because  I  know  my  country- 
men and  believe  in  them  most  mightily.  It's 
because  they  ask  such  a  lot  that  there's  good 
hope.  We  are  always  telling  each  other  what 
is  the  lesson  of  the  war.  As  I  see  it,  it  is  the 
folly  of  arrogance.  We've  beaten  it  in  our 
enemies,  and  now  we  've  got  to  conquer  it  — 
every  kind  of  it  —  in  ourselves.  We  want 
humility  in  every  soul,   and  humility  can 


168        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

come  only  from  understanding.  A  man  will 
not  talk  folly  if  he  has  a  sense  of  the  wisdom 
of  the  past,  and  he  will  not  push  his  own 
claims  too  far  if  he  reahses  that  he  is  part 
of  the  great  commonwealth  of  mankind. 
Knowledge  makes  humility,  and  without 
humility  there  can  be  no  true  humanity." 

Mr.  Burford  ceased,  and  for  a  little  silence 
reigned.  His  words  seemed  in  harmony  with 
the  dusky,  scented  world  and  the  shining 
spaces  of  the  sky.  Past  seemed  in  that  mo- 
ment to  mingle  with  present,  the  memories 
of  the  war  with  the  traditions  of  immemorial 
ages,  and  behind  all  moved  the  kindly  forces 
of  earth  which  daily  re-create  the  Hfe  of  man. 
Then  Mr.  Macmillan  spoke. 

*'I  have  got  the  answer  I  hoped  for.  It  is  a 
great  and  noble  prospect,  but  it  wants  much 
girding  of  the  loins." 

He  got  up  from  his  chair  and  looked  over 
the  glen.  "For  your  comfort  I  will  tell  you  a 
story  —  a  story  that  belongs  to  this  place 
and  the  folk  that  once  lived  here.  Among  the 
old  Gods  of  the  North  the  most  beautiful  was 


THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP        169 

Balder,  the  Life-Giver,  who  brought  morn- 
ing after  night  and  spring  after  winter  and 
quickened  joy  in  youth  and  hope  in  the  old. 
But  the  day  came  when  he  was  pierced  by 
the  dart  of  his  brother  Darkness,  and  went 
down  to  the  House  of  Hel  far  below  the  earth. 
The  whole  world  sorrowed  for  his  loss.  It  tried 
to  bring  him  back  by  its  tears,  and  every  liv- 
ing and  lifeless  thing  in  earth  and  heaven, 
from  the  High  Gods  to  the  stones  and  trees, 
wept  for  Balder.  But  he  did  not  come  back. 
Yet,  said  the  tale,  some  day  he  would  return. 
Some  day  twilight  would  fall  on  Walhalla, 
and  the  proud  Gods  would  be  destroyed  in 
their  last  great  fight.  They  were  fine  Gods  in 
Walhalla,  but  they  were  proud  and  violent 
Gods  with  the  passions  of  their  kind.  Then 
would  come  the  Deluge,  and  from  chaos  a 
new  earth  would  arise,  washed  clean  of  pride. 
And  Balder,  the  Life-Giver,  would  come 
again  from  the  House  of  Death  to  reign  over 
a  regenerate  world.  ...  I  wonder  if  that  may 
be  our  case.  We  have  long  been  trying  to 
bring  Balder  back  by  our  tears,  but  they 


170        THE  ISLAND  OF  SHEEP 

were  only  tears  of  sentiment,  and  arrogance 
still  ruled  our  hearts.  Now  we  have  passed 
through  our  Ragnarok  and  the  old  pride  has 
fallen.  Perhaps  the  day  is  near  when  Balder 
will  wake  from  his  sleep." 

He  broke  off  suddenly.  "Lamont,"  he  cried, 
"there's  a  monstrous  great  fish  rising  in  the 
Cow  Pool.  Let's  go  and  look  at  him.  Where's 
Burford.?" 

Mrs.  Lamont  answered.  *'I  think  he  has 
gone  for  a  walk  with  PhylUs  in  the  garden." 


THE  END 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U    .   S    .   A 


